Once upon a time in Chocolate Land…..

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Once upon a time in a far off land. There lived two bad tempered chocolatiers who try as they might just couldn’t seem to get the hang of tempering chocolate. The first chocolatier had a go at making chocolates for Christmas one year. Lovingly done, creatively produced, and beautifully presented. But little did she know that chocolate wasn’t meant to be just re-melted and added ingredients to if you wanted a consumable product. How they all laughed when her proud presentation of chocolate was unwrapped and before her very eyes the chocolate turned to powder. You see ‘temper’ wasn’t a word that was heard of much in their Kingdom of Chocolate.  Despite mass consumption of it. That was a lesson learnt very quickly by Chocolatier 1.

Then came along chocolatier 2. In his fancy apron, wild ambition, and chocolate making course voucher he spent a lovely afternoon learning from the best. How proud he was as he brought home the glossy, beautifully tempered chocolates. Tasting of honesty, truth and happiness, the two chocolatiers vowed that between the two of them that they would conquer the chocolate tempering dragon. Owning it, as they rightfully thought they should be.

With wild ideas, and more than a few fancy books, they embarked on the mission. Only to be met with frustration, disappointment, apathy, and frowning faces. What are we doing wrong? They said to them selves. Is it the chocolate? Is it the utensils? Is it the method? …

Is it us?…

Just at that sorrowful point when they were thinking a tempering machine via the surrounding kingdom of E-bay was sounding pretty enticing, a hand reached out….

A hand of an angel.

The hand of Matcha Chocolate. She had heard their whispered tones of disappointment, their various comments of rue and decided that she would help the little ones. Help them with a long instruction list.

Throwing caution to the wind they embarked again. They eyed off the instructions, and chocolate bowls at the same time. They closed their eyes, crossed their fingers and dipped them in… streaky. Streaky chocolate. Which could only mean one thing, untempered. They seemed so close. There was the snap, it tasted good, the flavours were working, but still it came down to the tell all streak.

Sighing between themselves. They shook their heads, and silently packed away their tools. With whispers of another day… maybe we are only meant for consumption and not production? They took consolation in the loving arms of Whittakers. They knew there would be another day for a rematch, but who knew when that day would be?

One hundred years passed in the Land of Chocolate, and Chocolatier 1 was getting a little anxious. She still felt the weight of not being able to make tempered chocolate. Wringing her hands together, she whispered to Chocolatier 2 that she thought tonight was the night, tonight was the night they would redeem themselves…hopefully.

They side tracked the elves, and got busy. With Matcha Chocolate’s instructions firm in hand again they commenced. It was a full 5 degrees warmer in the little kitchen then the last few times they had tried. Thinking that this could well have been the downfall of them last time, they were hopeful. With bowls full, spoons stirring and molds awaiting. They worked through the night. The elves grew tired and took themselves to bed, the Chocolatiers worked on. With chocolate drying on every surface, as the sun rose and spread it’s sunny fingers over the land, a bleary eyed Chocolatier stumbled to the kitchen. Before her lay a chocolate. Chocolate that looked glossy, had a snap, and not a streak to be seen. Sure it was a little sloppy looking but the Chocolatier had given up trying to be dainty with the last lot of chocolate coated truffles they had made many moons ago.

They had done it!

They had tempered! Hooray! With a spring in their Chocolatier boots and a quick wipe of their dirty chocolatey mouths, they hi-fived themselves…and they lived happily ever after.

1/ Picture one is of properly tempered chai slab.

2/ Assorted ‘streaky’ truffles. Chai, Rum and Raisin, Chilli, Orange flavours.

3/ Streaky chai truffle.

4/ Tempered Rose Apple and Strawberry, (albeit a little sloppy.)

Going, going…gone

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Auctions.

When most people hear the word auction. They think of a house auction. A home up for sale, or possibly a land auction. That’s not what I think of though.

As a kid the word filled me with fear. Auction combined with weekend, and it was a double whammy. I knew my precious not- schooled days would be taken up by spending at the dreaded auction. You see my mum had a thing for auctions. You know the kind? Antiques, wood furniture, cobwebs, retro finds, vintage fabrics, household items. As a pre-teen this meant hours and hours of reading in the car. The occasional sandwich would be thrown my way, and if I was lucky a can of lemonade. Other than that, the day was mine to read…and read…and read. Until the auction had finished and it was time to load up the car with our new found treasures.

As an adult, the word auction has a new meaning. At first there is that initial body rattle of fear (you can’t fight history right?), and then my ears prick up, my eyebrows raise, followed by a slight eye narrowing…what have they got? The possibility of so many wonderful finds is sometimes just too tempting to pass up. Household auctions are the best, when the whole house contents are up for sale. Quite often they are going for a song and you just have to be there, with a quick raise of the hand, showing your number, and it’s yours. This is how a lot of antique dealers get their stock. This is how second hand stores get their goodies. This is how bargains are to be had. If you want a bargain step away from the chain store and reach for your local paper instead. This is where you will find out when the next auction is on.

With my mum having a keen eye for a bargain at an auction, I have definitely benefited from it. Along with my siblings, retro, vintage, antique, you name it has passed through our hands. While this might not be that exciting for a lot of people it got me thinking recently. I was sifting through some of my mums things and just felt nothing but sadness. Before me was such a vast amount of things that were probably one offs now, perfect condition, not wanted by the original owners, not needed by my mum any more, and destined to go to an op-shop (thrift, charity store) IF they were lucky. There was only so much I could take on in a two bedroom flat. Vintage lace, balls of 1970’s icelandic wool, retro 70’s (new in packet) sheet sets, 1960’s table cloths and napkin sets…and bundles and bundles of finished and unfinished embroidery. Pieces that someone had put hours and hours in to…how could I not turn that in to something?

The top picture is off a truly gorgeous embroidery that someone has painstakingly done and not finished. Now made into a cushion, and sitting proudly on my arm chair with 3 other cushions made from retro auction material.

As our consumerist lifestyle seems to get faster and faster, are all these items things of the past? In time to come people won’t be looking back fondly at their Ikea bookshelves and think ..,wow, look at the workmanship on that. Now don’t get me wrong, I do think there is a time and a place for Ikea and other such stores, but as far as long term quality pieces…it’s just not there. So eventually will all quality furniture, clothing (anything at all really) be replaced with cheaply produced items. Things that have been made with minimum effort and maximum profit? So many things in todays society seem to have such a short shelf life, very little seems to be designed for the long term in mind. With media encouraging people to upgrade regularly, it’s a way of living that so many people seem to easily fit in.

The whole idea just makes me sigh…a big one.

So next time you think hmmm I think we could use a new sideboard, toy box, samurai sword or shell lamp (yes, I have one) check out your local paper first and see what’s happening in the auction section you might just come out with a one off bargain.

Morroccan Pumpkin with Cous Cous- Frugal Friday

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a good slurp of olive oil

some finely diced garlic

sliced onion

knob of diced ginger

good sprinkle of cumin

another good sprinkle of coriander

make it a dash of cinnamon

pop in some cut up pumpkin

cook it all until the pumpkin is soft

now add some english spinach roughly chopped

season it

now wilt it down

slap it on a mound of cous cous

add a dollop of natural greek style yoghurt

be generous with some dried chilli* (or fresh)

and serve it up

Frugal Friday dinner made in a very short space of time

 

* chilli gives your dinner some attitude… I like my meal with attitude

 

Lime and Coconut Cupcakes

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To the girl,

who wants to discover making sourdough

who will happily spend an hour discussing the intricate possible ingredients in a delectable dish

who softly sighs at the thought of a whole cellar full of her own preserved foods

that isn’t afraid to go skip diving with me (freeganing)

who will look at ceilings and bench space, wondering whether it’s possible to cure her own meat in a one bedroom apartment

who has spent the last 5 years perfecting the definitive banana bread

whose eyes would sparkle at the thought of a croquembouche challenge

who brought a watermelon to my home and now has Monkey Boy with hearts in his eyes, as there is nothing finer for him than watermelon

who has been living on the other side of the world and has been gone for far too long…

It’s wonderful to have you back my girl…

****

Lime and Coconut Cupcakes

125gms softened butter

1/3 cup sugar

1/3 cup honey

1 grated lime

juice of 2 limes

1 beaten egg

2/3 cup desicated coconut

1 1/3 cup s/r flour

Cream butter, sugar, honey, egg together. Add lime rind and juice. (Mixture will look a little curdled) Fold through dry ingredients and bake at 180C until golden.

icing

1 tablespoon mascarpone**

50gms softened butter

1 cup icing sugar

juice of 1 lime

In a mixer add all ingredients together until they combined and have a gorgeous creamy icing texture.*

* I didn’t pipe it, but it would look better if it was done that way. (Some days just aren’t piping days…not even for friends you haven’t seen for years. Sorry W!)

** I had made my own mascarpone recently so had some to spare. You could easily just keep it as a butter icing though.

3 reasons to eat locally on the south coast

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Now if you ever happen to be on the NSW south coast, cruising down the Princes Highway be sure to stop at the East Lynne service station and pie shop. Yes it’s an unlikely looking place to have the best pies you’ll ever buy…but it’s true. They do.

The best pie you’ll ever buy.

Pebby Beach- photo from shoalhaven city council

It’s just near the Pebbly Beach turn off, so after you have spent the morning snorkling in crystal clear water, watching kangaroos frisk tourists for a loose crumb or two, and dabbling with your kids in rock pools. Please, oh please go and get a big pie. You can buy hot savoury ones or big family fruit ones (cooked or frozen and uncooked- top photo is an uncooked apple pie.) What makes them so good? I think the pastry is the key ingredient, it’s just so good. Buttery with a touch of vanilla.

Mixed berry pie is my absolute favourite, with the apple being a close second. I will fight small children off in order to get to a second piece of the pie…seriously, do yourself and your taste buds a favour…GO BUY THE PIE.

If you are heading to the south coast…

Now if you are heading south from Sydney then before you buy your pie you may as well stop off in Berry. A popular little town, that’s an easy two hours drive from Sydney so sees a lot of weekend people. Two foodie tips for here. One is the Woodfired Sourdough Bakery. A place so funky it hurts. Complete with funky french staff, with funky french accents and coffee that hits just the spot. This place gets busy so be prepared to wait if you want to eat in.

Now the second tip is a little more unusual. At the top of town is the Berry Community Craft shop. It backs on to a lovely park, perfect for a little break. A place where locals donate their hand made goodies, and then are sold to make a little profit for the shop, (like a CWA shop). A great array of jams, chutneys, marmalades and pickles. Wooden children’s toys and more knitted and crocheted goodies than you can poke a stick at. All very reasonably priced.

Three very different places that provide some really great food and you also get to support the local community.

 

The importance of cafes in local community city living.

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Walking down to our local cafe the other day, I was a bit shocked when two strangers were standing behind the counter manning the coffee machine and working the grill. So shocked, that I stood there, mouth gaping a little, eyebrows frowning while I contemplated the scene in front of me. Hang on a second, this wasn’t right…who are you? Where’s Anthony? Which is what I blurted out. (Not the who are you, but where’s Anthony?) He sold up and we have taken over…*gasp!*…oh, I meekily said and muttered something about a latte and I would sit in the back. Sitting there mulling over what I had just been told, I phoned Mr Chocolate straight away and told him…*gasp!* He did what?!

Our favourite local cafe owner had sold and up and buggered off. Not a word, not a whisper and as I sat there trying to gather some thoughts, I was gutted. Mr Chocolate was gutted…The Monkeys would be gutted. Why? Not because I was a daily cafe frequenter and should have put up a little plaque in my honour on a chair, but because we genuinely loved the guy. He made the cafe.

Simple, tasty food, small setting. People came back because Anthony made you smile, he remembered your name. He knew what you drank. He was my foodie sounding board. The Monkeys adored him and would always run over and say hello regardless of whether we were buying anything. For 3 years this was our local. This was a place where I could study undisturbed for an hour sitting on one coffee, a place where my grandparents were introduced, Mr Chocolate and I had discussed any home issues at a back table, (when The Monkeys were being entertained elsewhere) milkshakes had been slopped by inexperienced child hands, biscuits handed out generously. It was OUR cafe and Anthony an important part of that sweet blend. THE important part of it.

But not any more. Two strangers stood before me, dishing out coffees and explaining the changes they had made to people coming and asking where Anthony was.

This got me thinking….How important are cafes within our community. For inner city living, the cafe culture is alive and strong. Weekends are full of streetside cafes, takeaway coffees a must and many a meal taken up in cafe. These cafes serve as meeting places, appealing to the family for a special treat out, friends meeting up, and singles seeking some alone time. With the absence of backyards for many inner city living people, this is a way of life. For many, if you are living in a small household like a flat in the city, you can be quite restricted with space. As our urban population increases, so will that high density living and lack of space.

If you want to go some where else, the options aren’t huge. The park, a bar, the beach or a cafe. I do my fair share of parks and beach, bars don’t appeal, so for a little me time now and again that hour in a cafe is gold. Pure gold.

There is something really inviting about going somewhere, where you are greeted warmly by name. Your coffee is being made without having said a word, and the conversation is easy. It’s hard to find that. It’s almost like an extension of your home. For many of my friends who live in the area and all living in 2 bedroom apartments with kids, these cafes are utilised frequently. Whether it be a place to take small children to on a rainy day for a babycino, a meeting spot with friend or a place for some quiet contemplation without kids. Cafes in inner city living are used, utilised and loved. Having a warm friendly face to greet you as you come in makes the experience. That cafe space for me has been on many an occasion, a life saver.

So now as we go past our old cafe I have to deal with from Monkey Boy, Mama it makes me feel so sad that Anthony is gone. I want to talk about him all the time, it makes me feel so sad…

From Little Monkey, ANThatttiii…ANThatttiii!! With small arms outstretched towards his cafe.

I know what you mean boys, I feel the same way.

Pan de Leche- the starfish

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Ahhh….the monkeys off my back.

Not MY Monkeys, but this monkey, (my Monkeys are frequently on my back.)

The starfish. No more shall I go to sleep muttering the words…starfish, starfish….no more shall I wake with bleary eyes, poke around for my days clothing, and wander as if pulled by an invisible chain to the kitchen muttering…starfish, starfish…

After stumbling upon this post, mentioning it to Celia who in turn sent me the instructions, then prompted by Heidiannie, then again asked by Joanna, who also sent me this post….I really just had to do it then didn’t I.

Pan de Leche dough sounded right for it. Pliable, not as eggy as a challah, it rolled perfectly and tasted like brioche. Got to love anything that tastes like brioche.

Pan de Leche- the starfish

200mls luke warm milk

2 tps dry yeast

1 egg

100gms softened butter

1/4 cup raw sugar

450gms flour

3 tbs olive oil

1 tps salt

Mix yeast in luke warm milk and set aside for 10 minutes. Mix remaining ingredients together (I used a mixer with dough hook) and also adding milk. Once mixed together, knead well until smooth and elastic. Cover and leave until doubled in size. Divide dough into 16 equal portions. Roll each portion out into a long snake, (leaving one aside to become a disk). Each snake should be the same length.

From here on in please refer to these posts, (one and two) as they will describe what to do far better than I will. The only difference being for the centre, I made a dough disk of about 1cm high to fill in the hole and then wound round a three strand plait, then tucked in again for the centre. Just before popping it in the oven, I brushed it all with milk. Baked at 220C until tips golden and then turned the oven down to 180C for a little further cooking.

* I’ve had a few posts about bread making recently. For so many people bread is a daily staple that plays a big role in the days meals. Making your own I can’t recommend it enough. It certainly doesn’t have to be like this, nor sourdough (although I’m sure you would love it). A simple bread maker machine quite often is enough. Comparing it to so many available shop breads, there really is no comparison in taste. Even if you only made one loaf a week it’s worth it.

It’s fiddle time

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You know its been a really long time when this sight greats you.

I used to play the violin when I was a kid. I was never particularly good, but I did diligently practise regularly and slowly went through a lot of sheet music. Then we moved away and there was no violin teachers to be had….Phew. My mum would ask me each year we renewed my semesters tuition fees did I still want to continue with the lessons? Yes, of course, I would always answer. Not because I loved it, but because I thought that was the answer she wanted to hear. So year after year I continue to saw away with my violin making dogs run for cover and male cats slink in a little closer as they thought a local female was on heat.

This was the special way I played my music.

Each minute I had to practise as a kid was a drawn out affair. Each minute felt like an hour. With a canny eye on the clock I could miraculously make a whole 5 minutes disappear. Yes, mum OF course that’s been half an hour practise…

Fast forward 20 years and suddenly I want to play again. Well I guess it’s not so sudden. It crept up on me. My thought wonderings would take me to my cast aside violin. The case collecting dust and two decades worth of unplayed music sitting in the corner.

So I got the old girl fixed up, a little violin servicing, and asked the violin maker if he knew of any teachers in the area. I’ll give you a lesson…really? Lets hear you play first…cue screeching cat noise- birds outside fly into telegraph poles distracted at the noise. Small children on the street stop their play, turning their frightened faces towards the house where THAT noise is coming from. Old people adjust their hearing aids, to stop the whining noise.

That’s right people, I’ve taken it up again. Neighbours have been warned. Each practise session I want to try and FIND an extra minute rather then shortening the practise time like before. The Monkeys have no interest in me doing it what so ever, and go back to tying each up and pulling apart the book case. Just one more minute boys, I’ll get dinner really soon…promise.

Four lessons in, and I’m already dreaming of bluegrass fiddle tunes, and emotive gypsy serenades.

First, I just need a little practise time finding F# again…

Weaving bread and why its fun to play with your food

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I have this very fond memory from when I was a kid. Staying at my Nana’s house and being ‘let loose’ in the kitchen. She gave me a plate full of flour, sugar, milk, sultanas, an egg and spices. With these ingredients I could do what ever I wanted and then she would cook it. Blissfully happy, I have no idea how it tasted, but I remember vividly the pride I had that I could choose what ever I wanted to do with those ingredients. It never happened again, and if I was cooking at home I always had to follow a recipe. Mum said I had to learn the basics first before I tinkered. Actually she was right, darn right. Because I know a lot of the basics now, tinkering with food makes more sense then when I cooked that flour, milk, sultana  concoction.

Playing with food and its different flavours can be so much fun. The last few months I have been playing with sourdoughs, love it, love it, love it. The last few weeks I’ve been playing with plaiting sourdoughs, plaiting, plaiting, plaiting. Then just I was about to embark on a certain ‘starfish’ that needed an intricate amount of plaiting, my brain said oh oh oh…but what if we did this instead?…Cross this with that, then that with this…Oh ok…Lets give that a whirl.

sourdough woven bread

…and that dear people is why it’s fun to play with your food. As you never know what you’re going to get.

If you would like to weave your sourdough. Make up your usual dough and when its time to do the shaping make your self a large square. Cut equal strips to go down and across. (For this one I did 8×8 strips) Making sure the strips are well floured, otherwise they will just blob together when having the final prove. Then tuck and loop, tuck and loop. For the edges, trim and then gently tuck under to tidy the sides up.

This bread makes for a good addition to soup, as it easily pulls apart.

* This post submitted to yeast spotting.

5 tips for Clove Oil use

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Clove Oil comes from the flower buds of a clove shrub or tree. It has many different uses. From being used in cooking (the dried spice) to numbing a painful tooth, to inhibiting the growth of mould. It has antibacterial, anti-fungal, and anti-inflammatory properties. It can be used as an analgesic, expectorant also as a mood uplifter. This is another little to thing to add to your household must haves. (Along with Bicarbonate of Soda, Eucalyptus Oil and Vinegar.)

Clove Oil is very potent, and a strong skin irritant so be careful when using it, (also around kids).

5 Tips for Clove Oil Use

1/ Clove Oil is a mould inhibitor, so can easily be used for wooden furniture with mould spores. Clean area first then allow to dry. With a dry rag add a few drops of the oil and rub over the effected area. It will inhibit the growth of more mould.

2/ Clove Oil can also be used as a dental anaesthetic. Dip a cotton bud into the oil and then dab on to the tooth or surrounding gum area that hurts. It has a numbing effect.

3/ Used in aromatherapy, the oil has a calming effect on the nervous system. If using an oil burner, just one drop should do the trick and get the lovely smell wafting through the air.

4/ For mould in bathrooms, especially ceilings. First clean effected area with bicarb/vinegar solution, then using a spray bottle use diluted clove oil with water to spray on the effected area- this inhibits the growth of mould spores. A dry rag with a few drops on it and rubbed in to the area also works, (depends how high your ceilings are.) Big plus, it smells so much better than cleaning with every day cleaning chemicals.

5/ Clove Oil can be bought just at your local chemist, usually in the dental area.

Coconut Sourdough with lashings of Strawberry Jam

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Many many moons ago, when I was a footloose and fancy free youngster, I worked in England for a little old lady. Charged with looking after this delightful old lady, it was up to me to make sure she was cared for and entertained. Being a little old lady she didn’t like big meals but she sure liked lots of little ones. There was breakfast, morning tea, 11’ses, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner and supper…alright maybe it wasn’t that many. But it felt like it. Afternoon tea however was a must. At precisely 3pm, a cup of tea and a little something to tide her over until the next meal would be served. Now more often than not, she would be rather partial to a packet of crisps and a quick nod off in the comfy armchair. Only for her to wake up awhile later with fallen crisps surrounding her and only the backpacker carer to blame it on.

Sometimes though, she would like a piece of cake or bread and jam. Accompanied with a little recital from the poetry in “Alice in Wonderland”. As I  was always happy to make cake and love to read this was always a really nice way to spend the afternoon.

Winter sun peaking through the curtains, little old lady with jam and bread perched on her knee and footloose and fancy free backpacker reading… “will you walk a little faster? said the whiting to the snail, there’s a porpoise right behind me and he’s stepping on my tail…”

Coconut Sourdough with Strawberry Jam- just the thing for a little afternoon tea.

Strawberry Jam

750gms roughly chopped and hulled strawberries

750gms sugar

1 lime juiced

1/2 lemon juiced

Cook the strawberries and sugar together. As there is no water in this recipe, keeping stirring continuously until moisture comes out of strawberries (otherwise it will burn.) Add juice of lime and lemon and cook until gets to wrinkle stage or do the saucer test. Bottle it up or just keep in a bowl in the fridge, (it gets eaten pretty quickly round here.)

Coconut Sourdough Loaf

175gms starter

1 1/2 cups bakers flour

1/2 cup desiccated coconut

200-250mls water

2 tbs honey

3/4 tps salt

What I did was mixed, over night ferment, 2 folds over about 5 hours. Final prove in tin for about 20 minutes. Baked at 250C initially for about 15 minutes and then down to 180C for a further 10 minutes. This was only a small loaf as it was an experiment. I’m not sure whether it’s the honey or coconut which hinders the rising process for the sourdough, (or it could be both). There were a few holes, but it is a denser loaf compared to my normal sourdough.

A hit though for The Monkeys when they were whooping it up for a little something to tide them over until dinner time.

The Lobsters Quadrille Lewis Carroll

“Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail,
“There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle — will you come and join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?

“You can really have no notion how delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!”
But the snail replied “Too far, too far!” and gave a look askance —
Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.

“What matters it how far we go?” his scaly friend replied.
“There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.
The further off from England the nearer is to France —
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?

should you curb your passion?

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P A S S I O N

1/ any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling, as love or hate.

2/ a strong or extravagant fondness, enthusiasm, or desire for anything: a passion for the environment.

3/ an outburst of strong emotion or feeling: He suddenly broke into a passion of bitter words.

antonym- Apathy

****

This topic has been springing up in my mind quite frequently lately …. Should you curb your passion?

Australians are re-known for “She’ll be right mate, no worries” sort of attitude. Most of the time I love this way of thinking. Not really hyper, not overly angsty and not running about like your heads fallen off. Conversations are held in quiet non committed manners in which the part takers leave feeling contented, feelings intact and not a raised voice to be heard (now I am over generalising here, I know….)

If someone starts speaking up about a particular topic in a manner that is strong and adamant, Australians get a little uncomfortable. Whats her problem?… He’s a bit of a nutter. People take a quiet step backwards, and retreat to a safe distance.

A lot of people, (me included at times), like to make a statement and end it with a question. Or just use some intonation that makes them sound like they are questioning something, even if its their own statement they have just said. This leaves the possibility of other options open. Not standing by the statement they have just said, as nervous that they might offend someone. We come across as a very obliging and friendly country because of this.

As a consequence going to a country like Italy, or any other Mediterranean country and it may seem like everyone is yelling at each other. Two people discussing yesterdays football scores, but to an outsider not speaking the language, it looks like a domestic dispute of biblical proportions. Arms waving, voices clamouring to be heard, only to end with a kiss on either cheek and a cheery wave goodbye.

Here, we do things differently though. Passion seems to quite often have had a lid put on it. I don’t want the only time you see an Australian really passionate about something is when they are talking about rugby or cricket and alcohol.

So with that in mind, it got me thinking. When you feel really strongly about something both positively and negatively do you comfortably voice that opinion/ feelings? I am very passionate in my feelings towards food, useless cheap plastic toys, pregnancy/birth, environmental issues and many more. Its hard sometimes biting my tongue, (until there are teeth indentations in there) and letting statements slide as the other party either has opposing opinions, not expecting a counter attack (as that’s how it may come across), or have no concept of my way of thinking.

How often do you let it slide before you are not only cheating yourself but almost doing the other person a dis-service by not voicing your opinion and letting your thoughts known.

I like to think I can respect other people’s feelings, try to reflect and see things from other people’s views and I certainly don’t want to offend people by me putting my thoughts and opinions out there. However I find so many people like to keep conversation ‘fluffy’, not wanting to explore thoughts any further and not challenge at all. Habits are kept that are easy to keep up. Support things that the majority do. ie. rugby, complaining about rain, and conversations are kept at an ‘acceptable’ level.

I know there is a time and a place for everything. Buying milk at the corner store, with kids in tow, is probably not the time to be explaining to the shop keeper of my thoughts on plastic bags, I know that. However when I see someone really talking about what they feel passionate about, I can’t help but feel enthused by it. I might not agree, but I really do love the fact that they feel so passionate about the subject. Bring it back to food again and I’m in heaven.

There are a whole string of people both in real life and media that have inspired me over the years through nothing but contagious enthusiasm for something they have felt passionate about.

Being a blogger I am exposed to many wonderful blogs that show so many enthusiastic souls out there doing what comes across as things they love, and telling the world about it. My dad was passionate in hating one of our past prime ministers, I wasn’t put off by his raised voice and throbbing veins in his neck at the mere mention of his name- rather entertained that someone could feel so much for someone he had never met.

In recent years celebrity chefs have taken over the world. Jamie Oliver is pretty much a household name. Why do people like him? Because he’s passionate. That true love of his shows. A good example of this is his recent committment to his Food Revolution, surely he wouldn’t do it unless he was nothing less than 100% passionate about what he was doing?

“Nothing great in the world has ever been accomplished without passion” – Christian Friedrich Hebbel

So should you curb your passion?…I don’t think so. Maybe contain it a little sometimes when needed, try not to let ego involved, but otherwise let it run free. Find out what’s important to you and have an opinion.

Apathy doesn’t change things, doesn’t get people involved, and it certainly doesn’t inspire.

Passion does.

So bring on that passion, and let me hear it.

What do you feel passionate about?