So Can You Cook? 31

Comfort Food

“Food, like a loving touch or a glimpse of divine power, has that ability to comfort.”
Norman Kolpas

So what is comfort food? Basically, they are foods that invoke memories of purer and simpler times, are evocative of childhood and all things ‘home made’. They are also foods that bring you comfort seasonally (images of winter in front of a roaring fire in your old ‘Onkaparinga’ dressing gown – with one tassle missing from the cord – with a bowl of steaming soup and a plate of hot buttery toast to dunk in it, a hot chocolate to come, thick and foamy with a marshmallow melting on top of it); or bring you comfort through difficult times either at work, socially or in your family life as when someone dies or gets ill. Comfort foods will vary from one person to another, and can tend to change as we get older. To me, comfort foods consist of soups, roasts, casseroles and stews, toasted sandwiches, macaroni cheese, rissoles, spag bol, pan-frued sandwiches and schnitzels. Anything with chocolate, rhubarb, hot steaming puddings, self-saucing puds, mousses, pies and tarts sum up the sweet side of things. My mother used to make this Sunday night dish she called Mock Fish. How it got it’s name i have no idea (though strangely it did taste slightly of fish), as it was basically just grated potato, squeezed, bound with an egg, then flat cakes were fried to a golden crispness. Today it is called a rosti and is served even in high class eateries. I loved them, and requested them probably more often than my mother was willing to grate all the potatoes. She was ahead of her time after all. I can still bring to mind images of them during winter, almost setting ourselves on fire in front of our open fire in the loungeroom toasting slices of bread held on a carving fork in front of the flames. I don’t know why, but the toast done in front of the fire always tasted better than that made in the toaster.. Modern additions to my comfort food catalogue would be salt and pepper prawns, Caesar salads, risotto, and just about anything with cheese.

In a world where I often hear sports-minded (read boof-headed) people declare that food is only fuel and they don’t care what they eat as long as it is healthy and uncomplicated; and having lived in a HIV world of nutritionists who basically declare the same thing, decrying the enjoyment and celebration of food (Cudo’s to Geoff Honor for reiterating this recently) it is good to see that people are still doing food for enjoyment, to bring them comfort and to celebrate the sheer exuburance of friendship and love.We could spend all day debating the healthy/unhealthy aspects of comfort foods, but it doesn’t alter the fact that a good number of us baby-boomers were raised on these diets, and there weren’t the childhood obesity problems and allegy proliferation that seems to be around these days, especially since the advent of fast-food in its many guises. The last time I had KFC- and it was a hell of a long time ago, I can tell you – it not only came out of a bain-marie but was dripping so much oil that I threw it out, and vowed ‘never again!’.

So it is time to celebrate comfort food. If you are health conscious or a nutritionist don’t read on. It will only lead you to despair. For all my other readers, get out your duna, turn up your heater and prepare to snuggle up in front of the tele with a steamy plate of memories.

LAMB SHANKS with PARSNIP LEMON & HERBS:

4 red onions, quartered

6 garlic cloves, thinly sliced

4 sprigs thyme

4 lamb shanks (about 1.2 kgs)

1 large parsnip, peeled

8 sage leaves

250ml veal stock (use beef or vegetable if veal not available)

GREMOLATA

1 tablespoon small capers, rinsed and drained

1 garlic clove, crushed

1lemon, zested

3 handfuls flat-leaf (Italian) parsley leaves

Preheat the oven to 200°C. Make a bed of the red onions, garlic and thyme in a deep casserole dish. Put the shanks on top., then arrange the parsnip and sage leaves over them and season well. Pour over the veal stock, and cover with a lid or foil. Bake for 1 hour, then uncover and bake for a further 30 minutes, oruntil the meat is pulling away from the bones.

To make the gremolata, put the capers, garlic, lemon zest and parsley leaves on a chopping board and chop them together finely with a sharp knife. Serve sprinkledover the lambshanks.

Serves 4

BARBEQUE GLAZED MEATLOAF;

1 small red capsicum

400g beef mince

150g sausage mince

1 medium brown onion, chopped finely

2 cloves garlic, crushed

¼ cup packaged breadcrumbs

1 egg, beaten lightly

½ cup coarsly chopped seeded green olives

¼ cup coarsly chopped fresh basil

1 tablespoon coarsely chopped fresh oregano

8 bacon rashers, rind removed, sliced lengthways

200g green beans, trimmed

BARBEQUE GLAZE

¼ cup water

1 tablespoon tomato paste

1 tablespoon red wine vinegar

2 tablespoons brown sugar

Quarter capsicum; remove and discard seeds and membrane. Roast under grill or in very hot oven until skin blisters and blackens. Cover in plastic or paper for 5 minutes. Peel skin away; cut capsicum into thinstrips.

Preheat oven to 180°C. Line a 8cm x 25cm bar tin with plastic wrap. Oil a 25cm x 30cm swiss roll pan.

Combine mince, onions, garlic, breadcrumbs, egg, olives, basil and oregano in a large bowl. Press half the meat mixture into the bar tin. Lay capsicum strips over the top, leaving a 1cm border; press remaining meatloaf mixture over capsicums.

Turn bar tin onto prepared swiss roll tray; remove plastic wrap from meatloaf. Cover top and sides of meatloaf with bacon, overlapping bacon. Bake, uncovered, in moderate oven 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, make barbeque glaze; Combine ingredients in a small saucepan; bring to the boil. Reduce heat; simmer, uncovered, 5 minutes.

Pour off any excess fat from meatloaf, brush with glaze; bake uncovered abiut 25 minutes or until meatloaf is cooked through. Stand 10 minutes before slicing.

Serve beans with meatloaf.

Serves 4

PEPPERY PROSCIUTTO & MOZZARELLA FRENCH TOAST

2 brioche rolls, halved (or other soft rolls)

2 tablespoons store-bought caramelised onion or chutney

4 slices prosciutto

60g mozzarella cheese, sliced

2 eggs

¼ cup milk

Cracked black pepper

20g butter

Spread the basesof the rolls with the caramelised onion, top with the prosciutto and mozzarella and sandwich with the tops.

Whisk together the eggs, milk and pepper in a bowl. Heat the butter in a large non-stick frying pan over medium heat. Dip the rols in the egg mixture, drain briefly, and cook for 2-3 minutes on each side or until golden and the cheese is melted.

Serves 2

SELF-SAUCING CHOCOLATE PUDDINGS

½ cup plain flour

1½ tablespoons hazelnut meal

¼ cup brown sugar

1½ teaspoons baking oowder

3½ tablespoons cocoa, sifted

½ cup milk

35g butter, melted

1 egg, lightly beaten

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

½ cup brown sugar, extra

1 cup boiling water

Preheat oven to 180°C. Sift the flour, hazelnut meal, sugar, baking oowder and 2 tablespoons cocoa intoa bowl. Add the milk, butter egg and vanilla and mix well to combine. Spoon into 4 x 1 cup ramekins and place on a baking tray. Place the extra sugar and remaining cocoa in a small bowl and mix to combine. Sprinkle over the puddings and pour ¼ cup of water over each. Bake 12-15 minutes or until the tops are firm.

Serves 4

COOKING TIPS:

•When using beans and vegetables (eg cannelini, berlotti beans, capers, peppercorns, potatoes etc) from a tin, always rinse thoroughly under water before using. This removes the taste of the brine, and stops beans being ‘farty’.
•Keep unused grated mozzarella cheese n a plastic bag in the freezer. Comes in handy for pizzas.
•Keep cut cheese blocks wrapped in foil in the fridge. This stops the cheese drying out and going mouldy. The same applies to cold meats, though for no longer then 5 days.
•Keep bottles of lemon and lime juice in the fridge.It is always a shame to waste a lemon by only using a teaspoon of juice.
•Keep unused cut avocado from going brown by replacing the stone in the fruit and wrapping tightly in glad-wrap. To stop going brown when cooking, rub with lemon juice.

Tim Alderman 2014

So Can You Cook? 30

The Sunday Roast

The Sunday roast was an institution when I was a kid, usually had at lunch time on Sunday, or occasionally in the evening. It was taken for granted that there WOULD be a roast on Sunday, so much so that no one really ever gave it much thought. It was so ritualised that any guests visiting on Sundays would be included in the lunch, and about once a month my father would do the trek from Sylvania to Leichhardt to pick up my grandparents to participate in the meal. Because Saturday afternoons were baking times, the pie or strudel for dessert would be already made and ready to go at the end of the meal. I remember my mother having a heavy steel baking dish that always turned out the most delicious roasts and vegetables, and it had a build-up of baked on fat on it (we used dripping back then to bake) that my mother claimed was the secret to the perfect roast.

These days I constantly hear people say that they can’t cook a roast as good as their mothers, or they say they are no good at all with roasts. There are secrets to a good roast, and if you follow a few simple directions success can pretty well be guaranteed. I cook great roasts, and have the art of perfect baked vegetables down pat. In this column, I am keeping the recipes to a minimum, but giving you a world of hints and advise that will ensure that your family and friends will always want to visit you for your roast. I will attempt to break things down into general advise, meat advise, vegetable advise and a section for all the little extra’s that take a roast dinner from good to great.
So, get out your roast, peel your veges and here we go…

GENERAL;
• Use a heavy-based baking dish for best results.
• Roasts are best baked at around 220°C.
• Use vegetable or canola oil for baking – olive oil really doesn’t work.
• Don’t worry if your meat is not fully defrosted – just add an additional 30 minutes to the cooking time.
• I cook my meat first, then leave it to sit while i bake the vegetables. Allow yourself at least 2-21/2 hours to get a baked dinner ready.
• As I have stated before, as far as I’m concerned ‘Gravox’ is as good as home-made gravy. However, for the purists I will describe the lost art of gravy making.

MEATS;
• Allow thirty minutes cooking time per 500g of weight, irrespective of lamb, beef or poultry.
• Remove from oven at least 30 minutes before serving, cover with foil and allow to stand. This allows the juices to flow back into the meat, making the roast more moist and succulent.
• Test your meat by pushing a baking fork or skewer into the centre of the meat. If blood flows out, allow a little longer. It is okay to leave both lamb and beef a little pink in the middle (NOT RAW), but poultry and pork should be cooked thoroughly.
• Unfortunately – and I’ve said it many times before – Australian lamb is not what it used to be. Our best meat is now exported and us good old Aussies are expected to accept second-best. Finding a lamb leg roast that is not tough these days is like playing a game of chance – with the odds stacked against you. If you can find a good butcher, stick with him, and if necessary pay a little more for your meat. The quality of supermarket meats is always in doubt, and you are never really sure what you are getting.
• Always carve your meat along the grain.
• If you want your roasts to be totally fat-free, place them on a trivet in your baking dish. This also tends to brown them evenly all over.
• Stand meat, then carve and leave ready on plates. When the vegetables and gravy are ready, zap the meat for about 40 seconds in a 1000 watt microwave (longer in lower wattage microwaves.
BEEF;
• The following cuts are best for roasting – Scotch fillet (rib eye); eye fillet and butt fillet; bolar blade, rump & sirloin; standing rib, silverside, topside & round.
• Some people like to brown their roasts before cooking, though I personally wouldn’t bother. If you do want to brown it, heat a mixture of oil and butter in a heavy-based frying pan, and brown on all sides before placing in your baking dish.
• Beef can be flavoured in many ways, including rubbing the whole roast in mustard before baking. The following Indian Spice Paste is also a great way to add a different flavour to your beef: INDIAN SPICE PASTE : 2 teaspoons coriander;1 teaspoon cumin; 2 cardamon pods, buised; 1 cinnamon stick; 1 star anise;1 teapoon ground turmeric; 1/2 teaspoon chilli powder; 1 medium brown onion, chopped; 2 cloves garlic, peeled; 4cm piece ginger, grated; 1 teaspoon salt; 2 teaspoons brown sugar; 3 tablespoons lemon juice; 1/2cup peanut oil – combine seeds, cardamom and star anise in a heated, dry frying pan and cook, stirring, until fragrant. Add turmeric and chilli ; remove from heat. Blend or process spice blend with onion, garlic, ginger, salt, sugar and juice until smooth. While motor is running, gradually add oil until well combined. Using a sharp knife, pierce beef all over with deep cuts. place beef and Indian Spice Paste into a large resealable snap-lock bag or large shallow dish. Rub beef with Indian Spice Paste to ensure an even coating; cover, refrigerate 3 hours or overnight.
• For an Asian flavour, try rubbing it with a mixture of honey, ginger and soy sauce.
• You can buy commercially prepared dry rubs that can either be used as dry marinades, or add some oil and turn into a paste.
LAMB;
• Lamb leg or lamb shoulder are the best cuts – if you can buy good quality.
• If you want to roll, or stuff and roll your lamb, get your butcher to remove the bone for you. Keep it for the hound.
• Rosemary and mint go beautifully with lamb. Pierce your lamb leg all over with a sharp knife and push slices of garlic and small sprigs of rosemary into the cuts. Mint sauce is still the best accompaniment for lamb.
• Don’t forget that lamb is very fatty. Supermarket rolled roasts are notorious for being nearly all fat – so DON’T buy them. Roll your own – that way you can trim off a good deal of the fat.
• ROLLED LAMB FILLING: Quarter a red capsicum, remove seeds and roast in a very hot 240°C oven, skin-side up, until skin blisters and blackens. Cover capsicum in plastic wrap for 5 minutes; peel away skin; slice. Lay slices of roasted capsicum down the centre of your deboned lamb loin, and top with 20g baby spinach leaves and 1/3 cup loosely packed basil leaves. Roll tightly and secure at 2cm intervals with kitchen string. Don’t use coloured string otherwise you will colour your roast – remember Brigid Jones?
PORK;
• The most seductive thing about pork – apart from he sweetish meat – is the delicious, morish crunch of crackling. It is also the one thing people find difficult to do. I have tried various recipes over the years, and have found the following the best. You can score the fat yourself, or get the butcher to do it for you. The rind needs to be scored about 1cm apart, across the pork in the same direction you will carve. It needs to be scored deeply through to the fat, to ensure he fat is rendered and the crackling will be crisp. Preheat the oven to very hot 250°C. Place pork in a large baking dish. Rub the scored rind with course cooking salt. Roast pork, uncovered, in very hot oven 25 minutes or until the rind blisters, Drain excess fat from the dish. Reduce oven temperature to 180° and roast according to weight.
• Alternatively, if you find you are still having problems, remove the rind entirely from the roast, rub with some oil and salt, and either bake on a flat tray in a 250° oven until it blisters and crisps or place under a griller on its lowest height and grill until blistered and crisp.
POULTRY;
• Supermarkets often keep a range of marinated chickens, including flat-splayed, in the butchers section. If you want to save yourself the hassle of marinating, I have found these quite convenient.
• The size of a chicken will tell you its weight ie a size 16 chicken is 1.6kg in weight, a size 20 is 2kg etc.
• Check your chicken doesn’t contain a giblet bag, and remove the neck if tucked inside. Your dog will love you for this little treat. Rinse the chicken under cold water, and pat dry with paper towel before baking.
• Stuffings are always nice with chickens – but not essential. A simple and tasty flavouring is to stuff the cavity with 12 unpeeled garlic cloves, and 10 lemon thyme sprigs. Rub the skin with a halved lemon, then brush with 2 teaspoons oil. CHORIZU-STUFFING: 10g butter;1 medium brown onion, chopped finely;1 chorizo sausage, diced; 11/2 cups breadcrumbs; 1/2 cup ricotta. Melt butter in a fry pan and cook onion and chorizo until onion softens. Cool 10 minutes; combine chorizo mixture in medium bowl with breadcrumbs and ricotta. Stuff prepared chicken cavity with mixture before baking. COUSCOUS STUFFING; 1 teaspoon olive oil; 1 medium brown onion, chopped finely; 11/2 cups chicken stock;1/4 cup olive oil;1 tablespoon finely grated lemon rind;1/4 cup lemon juice; 1 cup couscous; 1/3 cup toasted slivered almonds; 1 cup seeded dried dates, chopped finely;1 teaspoon ground cinnamon;1 teaspoon smoked paprika; 1 egg, lightly beaten. Heat oil in small frying pan. Cook onion until soft. Combine stock, extra oil, rind and juice in medium saucepan; bring to the boil. Remove from heat. Add couscous, cover, stand about 5 minutes or until stock is absorbed, fluffing with fork occasionally. Stir in onion, nuts, dates, spices and egg. Stuff prepared chicken cavity with stuffing before baking.
• Use dry rubs on chicken skin to enhance flavour of both skin and breast.
• 40 CLOVE CHICKEN; Separate coves from 3 garlic bulbs, and leave unpeeled. Place half the cloves inside the cavity of the chicken, and the remaining cloves in the baking dish. This sounds like a lethal garlic overload, but quite the contrary, Baking lightens and sweetens the flavour of garlic, imparting a really delicious flavour to chicken.
GRAVY &SAUCES;
• BASIC GRAVY: (Makes about 2 cups) Pan juices; 2 tablespoons plain flour; 2 cups chicken or beef stock. Remove roast from pan and cover. Reserve 2 tablespoons juices in baking dish. Stir in flour and cook, stirring,about 5 minutes or until browned. This is known as deglazing your pan. Stir in stock and cook over high heat, stirring, until gravy boils and thickens. Strain before serving. You can replace 1/2 cup of stock with red wine if preferred. For onion gravy add a small, finely chopped brown onion to the juices and cook until soft before adding flour. For peppercorn gravy place prepared gravy into a small saucepan and add 1 tablespoon drained canned green peppercorns. For mushroom gravy place prepared gravy into a small saucepan and add 100g finely sliced, cooked button mushrooms. Cook stirring 2 minutes.
• MINT SAUCE: 1 cup cider vinegar; 1/4 cup boiling water; 1/4 cup finely chopped fresh mint leaves; 1 tablespoon brown sugar; 1 teaspoon salt; 1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper. Combine all ingredients in a small bowl. Stand 30 minutes before serving.
• APPLE SAUCE: 2 small apples; 2 tablespoons sugar; 1/2 cup water; pinch ground cinnamon. Peel apples, cut into quarters; remove cores; slice apples, Combine apples, sugar, water and cinnamon in a small saucepan, cover, bring to boil. Reduce heat. Cover; simmer 5 minutes or until apple is pulpy. Whisk until sauce is smooth.
VEGETABLES;
• I hear as many complaints about problems baking vegetables than anything else. ‘They don’t brown’ is one of the commonest complaints, and I’m about to tell you the secrets to perfect baked vegetables.
• All root vegetables are suitable for baking, including swedes, turnips, onions, carrots, sweet potato (white), kumera (orange), Jerusalem artichokes etc. Don’t forget the pumpkin. To add some real variety to your baked vegetables, try adding some beetroot, fennel or celeriac to your mix. All root vegetables take around about the same time to cook, so put them all in together. CUT THEM EVENLY, and NOT IN HUGE PIECES. Keep it smallish for quicker, more even baking.
• Vegetables should be baked at around 240°C, which is why you do them separately to your meat.
• You are often told to place pumpkin in later than potatoes, but I don’t agree. I really love my pumpkin overcooked – as do many other people I know. It develops the most delicious sweetness, and the outside will caramelise (it is NOT burnt) due to the sugar in pumpkin. I could eat this and nothing else with my roasts. Use Butternut, Jap or Queensland Blue. Some of the little novelty pumpkins also bake nicely.
• The following potatoes are best for baking – chat, desiree, russet burbank (Idaho), kestrel, King Edward, kipfler, nicola, royal blue, ruby lou and spunta.
• My personal favourite – despite being a bit more expensive than traditional potatoes – are kipfler. They look great on the plate, bake beautifully and taste delicious.
• Make sure your oven is right up to heat before adding your baking dish to the oven.
• Cut potatoes into smallish pieces – if you cut a 1 – 1 1/2 cm slice from the potato, cut off the top third, then cut the remaining two-thirds in half. this makes them a perfect size for baking. Place in a microwave-safe bowl with 1/4 cup water and microwave on high for 5 minutes (alternatively, place them in a saucepan of boiling water and cook for 5-7 minutes). Drain. Toss or roll all your vegetables in canola or other oil (NOT olive oil) and place in the baking dish. DO NOT ADD OIL TO TH DISH. Bake at 240°C for around 30 minutes for until vegetables are cooked and brown. Turn them over at mid-point. They may take up to 45 minutes – just keep an eye on them after the 30 minute mark.
• Any green veges go with a roast, though the traditional green accompaniments are peas or beans. Buy them fresh and cook them in the micrwave. Peas take 3-4 minutes, and beans 2-3 minutes. Don’t under-estimate microwaves. They are really great for cooking vegetables perfectly in a very short time.
• Broccoli, cauliflower and broccolini are also great roast accompaniments.
• MINI YORKSHIRE PUDDINGS: Something for the true traditionalist. 2 eggs; 2/3 cup milk; 2/3 cup plain flour; 1 tablespoons vegetable oil; 20g butter. Preheat oven to very hot 250°C. Whisk milk, eggs and flour in a medium bowl until smooth. Heat oil and butter in a small saucepan over low heat until the butter melts. Pour the oil mixture into a small jug. Divide oil in jug among holes of 2 x 12-hole mini muffin pans . Place in very hot oven about 1 minute or until oil mixture is very hot. Working quickly, divide batter among holes of pans. Bake, uncovered, in very hot oven about 10 minutes , or until puddings rise and are browned lightly.

COOKING TIPS:
• When beating egg whites, ensure your bowl and beaters are spotlessly clean. Any impurities or grease will stop your whites from becoming stiff.
• The secret to great scambled eggs is to add the eggs to the pan when the butter starts to foam fiercely. Leave to start setting, then working quickly scramble them in the pan, leaving a little bit moist. DON’T OVERCOOK.
• For poached eggs, add salt and 1 tablespoon white vinegar to the water. Bring to the boil, then turn off the hotplate. Quickly add your eggs to the water (egg rings are best for poached eggs) then leave for 8-10 minutes until set and cooked to your taste.

Tim Alderman
Copyright 2014

So Can You Cook? 29

A Café in Your Kitchen

Tea drinking used to be ‘art’ of the average household, with its associated rituals and the fact that tea-drinking was so much a part of our English heritage, and had been around for so long.

Coffee drinking used to be considered something very European or American (I believe the Americans make the worst coffee imaginable), so was slow in its uptake here. Instant coffee has been around in various guises certainly for as long as I remember, and coffee substitutes like chicory essence even longer. There have always been acceptable instant coffees – for when you are in a real rush – such as ‘Nescafe’ (now doing amazing things with there filter coffee ranges under the ‘Nespresso’ label; see http://www’nespresso.com.au), ‘Moccona’ etc right through to the ones we like to joke about – like ‘International Roast’, which has never quite lived ujp to its name.
However, in the last 10 years filter coffee in its many incarnations of filter, plunger, vacuum, espresso etc have really come to the fore, and changed the way we not only make coffee but view the world of coffee in general. There is hardly a house without an espresso maker these days, from the low end machines for around $100 to the really kick arse top-end machines that can be $4000-$5000, and often imitating the original Italian machines. Coffee has become the new ‘art’ for moring and afternoon tea, and for after dinner drinking. Mind you, we haven’t all been totally seduced. I own a ‘DeLonghi’ espresso machine – this really space-age looking machine that sits unobtrusively on the kitchen bench, and uses the ‘Nespresso’ system of coffee capsules, which come anywhere from lighter tasting coffees to really dark, robust blends that really give you a kick start. I only have 0ne coffee a day – unless entertaining- and it is usually at lunchtime. It is always an espresso, as this is the best way to enjoy the flavour of coffee, just as black is the best way to appreciate the flavour of quality tea.
So other rituals have now come into our lives, and the rituals involving your kitchen espresso machine are important if you are to fully appreciate and enjoy your coffee. To start with make sure you’re using good quality water. Your espresso will be made up of 90% water so its taste will have a big impact on the flavour of your coffee. Additionally, the quality of your water will determine the longevity of your machine. Sydney generally has good quality water, though if you are from an area with hard water, take appropriate care. Scale can clog the various valves and temperature probes within your machine causing all kind of problems. Bottled or filtered water are generally the recommended options but rainwater also gets good results.
Temperature also plays an important part, so the easiest way to make sure that this factor is stable is to allow the espresso machine to completely heat — not only the water in the boiler or thermoblock, but also the portafilter and surrounding metal of the body (around 15–25 minutes should be sufficient).
The other check boxes for you to tick are cups, a tamper, milk jug and grinder. You often receive a tamper with your espresso machine but these are usually a cheap afterthought and rarely fit your basket. Achieving an evenly compressed and level biscuit of coffee within your basket is imperative to extract the maximum flavour out of your grinds. Investing in a good quality tamper like a Reg Barber with a base that fits your basket will help with consistency and make the entire process more enjoyable.

Along with using freshly roasted coffee (ideal is within two weeks of roasting), the other key to achieving spectacular, café quality coffee at home is the use of a burr grinder. Rather than the ‘whirley blade’ grinders (generically known as ‘spice and coffee grinders’), which actually crush the coffee beans unevenly — a burr grinder will shave the beans into clean and consistent particle sized grounds. This allows the water to pass evenly over all of your coffee. Grinding fresh, just before you need to brew your coffee, will ensure that all the volatile oils and aromatics are kept trapped within the particles rather than, after being exposed to air for more than ten minutes, evaporating into the ether.
The amount of ‘crema’ or head on the top of your coffee is also very important, and good crema comes from a combination of both good coffee, and a quality machine.
Naturally, what you eat or make with your coffee is also important, and good quality espresso coffee can make a huge difference to the quality of the treats and desserts you make.

In all the following recipes, please feel free to exchange the instant coffee for an equivalent amount of fresh, strong espresso.

Pistachio, Date & Chocolate Meringue Cake;though not made with coffee, this indulgent treat is the perfect accompaniment for a good cup of coffee. If you find the cake too sticky for your taste, leave it in the oven for a further 30 minutes. It is SOOO delicious.
3 egg whites
¼ cup caster sugar
125g pistachio nuts, roughly chopped
125g dates, roughly chopped
125g good quality dark chocolate, roughly chopped

Preheat oven to 160°C. Grease and dust with caster sugar 10 individual cake or muffin tins or one 20cm spring-form cake pan.
Whisk egg whites until soft peaks hold there shape. Add caster sugar and beat until incorporated. Fold in pistachios, dates and chocolate.
Scoop into prepared tins and bake for 30 minutes. Cool for 15 minutes before removing.
Serve with fresh dates and pistachios.

Coffee Bean and Cherry Biscotti;
85g plain flour
85g self-raising flour
60g polenta
85g caster sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
50g dried cherries
50g chocolate-coated coffee beans
30g blanched almonds

Preheat oven to 160°C and grease a baking tray.
Sift together the plain and self-raising flours, polenta and sugar into a large bowl and make a well in the centre.
Beat together the eggs and vanilla extract and pour into the dry ingredients. Add the cherries, coffee beans and almonds and stir. Knead gently until the mixture comes together into a sticky dough.
Shape the dough into a log about 20cm x 20cm x 2cm and put onto the prepared baking tray. Bake for about 30 minutes or until golden.
Remove from the oven (leaving the oven on) ands leave to cool for about 5 minutes, then transfer to a chopping board and cut into slices about 1cm thick. Arrange the slices in a baking sheet and bake for a further 15-20 minutes, turning halfway through until crisp and golden.
Remove from oven, transfer to a wire rack and leave to cool.
Makes about 20

Squidgy Coffee bars;
150g butter, softened
100g caster sugar
100g light soft brown sugar
1 tablespoon quality instant coffee dissolved in 1 tablespoon just-boiled water
1 large egg
225g self-raising flour
60g dark chocolate chips
70g blanched hazelnuts, roughly chopped
70g fudge, roughly chopped

Pre-heat oven to 190°C. Grease and line a 20cm square cake pan.
Beat together the butter, caster and brown sugars until smooth and creamy. Beat in the coffee, followed by the egg. Sift over the flour and fold in, then fold in the chocolate chips, hazelnuts and fudge.
Spoon the mixture into the prepared cake pan, spread out evenly and bake for about 25 minutes until golden and risen. Leave to cool in the tin for about 5 minutes before cutting into 12 bars.
Leave to cool for a little longer in the tin, then lift out and carefully peel off the lining paper.
Makes 12 bars

Cappuccino Cheesecake;
150g chcolate-covered digestive biscuits (or whatever you fancy)
60g butter, melted
500g mascarpone (a thick, sweet Italian cream from the supermarket)
125ml crème fraiche (a sweet version of sour cream, from the supermarket)
3 tablespoons quality instant coffee dissolved in 3 tablespoons just-boiled water
125g caster sugar plus 1½ tablespoons for the topping
4 eggs, beaten
240ml sour cream
cocoa powder, to dust.

Put the biscuits in a food processor and blitz until crumbs, then combine with the melted butter.
Tip the mixture into a 20cm spring-form cake pan (greased) and smooth out to make an even base. Cover and chill for 30 minutes.
Pre-heat the oven to 180°C.
Beat together the mascarpone and crème fraiche until smooth, then stir in the coffee and sugar. Stir in the eggs until well mixed.
Wrap the base and sides of the tin in two single layers of foil, then pour the mascarpone mixture over the crumb base. Put in a roasting pan and pour water around the cake tin so that it reaches half to two-thirds of the way up the sides. Bake for about 50 minutes or until set but still soft.
Meanwhile, stir the remaining 1½ tablespoons sugar into the sour cream. Remove the cheesecake from the oven, gently spoon over the sour cream, spreading it out evenly, then return to the oven for 10 minutes.
Remove from the oven and leave to cool completely, then cover and chill for at least 4 hours or overnight. To serve, carefully unmould and dust with cocoa powder.
Serves 8 (or 4 very greedy piggy’s)

Rich Almond Tiramisu;
300g mascarpone
3 tablespoons caster sugar
2 eggs, separated
300g Amaretti morbidi (soft Amaretti) biscuits
120ml cold espresso
about 1½ tablespoons Kahlua
cocoa powder and finely grated chocolate, to sprinkle

Put the mascarpone, sugar and egg yolks in a bowl and beat together until creamy.
In a clean, grease-free bowl, whisk the egg whites until stiff peaks form. Fold a couple of spoonfuls of the egg whites into the mascarpone mixture, then fold in the remaining egg whites, one third at a time.
Put a couple of spoonfuls of the mascarpone mixture into the base of 4 serving dishes or glasses and smooth the surface. Working carefully, soak about half the amaretti in the coffee for a minute or two until saturated but not collapsing. Puit a couple on top of the mascarpone, then sprinkle ¼ – ½ teaspoon Kahlua over each serving.
Continue layering with more mascarpone, coffee-soaked amaretti and Kahlua, finishing with a layer of mascarpone. Dust with cocoa powder , then cover and chill overnight.
To serve, sprinkle with more cocoa powder and grated chocolate.
Serves 4

HINTS COLUMN
• Buy the best quality chocolate you can afford for cooking. It DOES make a difference!
• Add a pinch of salt to everything you cook – including sweets and chocolate. It helps to enhance the flavour of foods, which is why you ALWAYS see chef’s adding salt to dishes.
• To make caramel from condensed milk, cover the unopened tin in water, bring to the boil, then simmer for 3 hours. This produces an imitation of a South American sweet called dulce de leche. DON’T LET THE PAN BOIL DRY!
• Use dried herbs at the start of cooking (due to their intense flavour), and fresh herbs at the end.

Tim Alderman
Copyright 2014

So Can You Cook? 28

The Art of Speed and Substitution

Instead of giving readers a long string of recipes this column, I have decided to share some of my personally gained expertise regarding cooking with you.

One of the great problems with todays fast world is that too many people see cooking as complicated, and a time-consuming chore. The is a general misunderstanding of terminology (in many ways cookings own fault for sticking with French terminology), the ways food is prepared, and a fear of experimentation that can cut corners and lead to your own unique-styled dishes. There is also a greater cultural diversity with dishes combined with some concern about breaking away from the ‘normal’. Mum may have been a good cook, but she sure as hell wasn’t a healthy cook – good old-fashioned English-Style cooking is NOT healthy, with all the goodness being cooked out of vegetables, meats and poultry being overcooked, unhealthy fats used for frying and baking etc.
I have spent almost my entire life studying food and its preparation. At school I read a number of books on food preparation, and used to invent my own recipes instead of doing my maths homework – perhaps a reason for me not doing well in maths…oh let’s be realistic. I loathed maths. The fact that I didn’t get my credentials in cooking until late in life was due more to bad experiences when I left school than to not having the inclination. The way to get into cooking in those days was to start in some place like a hospital kitchen, but I had this image in my mind that if I got stuck in that rut, the only food I would ever cook would be insipid, bland food, or end up in a el-cheapo café, so I bowed out. I did start pastry cooking with a cakeshop in Campsie, but the 5.00am start at 16-years of age soon put me off. The fact that all I seemed to do there was wash dishes didn’t help things along. In some ways, this was to my advantage, as by the time I decided to go to TAFE to do my chef’s creds, I already had a huge amount of personal experience with preparing food, and had sampled a wide variety of cuisines. I did dare to question the way food preparation and cooking was taught at TAFE (trust a mature-ager to stir the pot). I wanted to know why, in an Australian institution like TAFE we were still taught French-styled cooking with its heavy emphasis on rich fatty sauces, delicate food preparation (like parsley having to be chopped so finely it was almost a powder), defined sizes for chopping, French names that meant nothing (I bet YOU don’t know what a voloute is – and that you probably don’t care), and a lot of cuts of meat, fish and game that people really have little interest in trying, let alone preparing. My argument was that this was Australia in the 21’st century, with one of the most diverse cuisine cultures anywhere in the world. Anybody who watches “Food Safari” on SBS will know how staggering the variety is. Also, that we were becoming more and more health conscious with our cooking, which meant that French cooking really had little relevance to our local eating habits, or to our health. Naturally, my arguments fell on deaf ears, but I did at least bring the subject up, and though the tutor agreed with me – that is how cooking is taught. C’est la vie.
So, to help take some of the mystique out of cooking, and as a guide on how to do things quickly and tastefully I offer the following hints and advice.

MELDINGS: Some things just naturally go together, so when deciding on what to put with what, knowing this can help to put dishes together.
WITH BEEF use mustards, strong peppery spices like paprika, five-spice, tumeric, start anise etc. When cooking, use cheaper cuts for stewing or casseroling – but only when cooking is long and slow to break the meat down. For quick stewing and stir-frying use better cuts, as they remain tender with quick cooking. Don’t be like your father and use cheap steak for barbeques – use better cuts and cook quickly over high heat. Don’t put meat into a wok until the oil is smoking, and stir it quickly from the bottom of the wok to the sides, then back down to get it to cook through. If adding a sauce that needs to be thickened, cook the meat three-quarters of the way through, then let it finish cooking in the sauce.
WITH LAMB use rosemary or mint, and some of the milder spices and pastes. Lamb is not as strong as beef, so requires softer flavours. Try rolling lamb fillets in dukkah for a great, crunchy coating.. Lamb is always better if not quite cooked through, leaving it a little pink. Lamb fillets are expensive, but worth the money as they are always tender, have little waste on them, and can be eaten hot or cold in a salad. The same goes for backstrap. I find chops not only very fatty, but not good value for money as they have little meat on them – likewise for cutlets. Lamb stir-fries well, but buy and cut it yourself, as ready-cut stir fry meat is usually cheaper cuts that are tough. Tandoori pastes taste great with lamb, in fact lamb goes well in Indian cooking – full stop. Unfortunately as much as we love it, the lamb roast is not as good as it used to be. We sell all our really top quality lamb overseas, leaving ourselves with the cheaper, older cuts. Two out of three lamb shoulders for roasting is as tough as shoe leather – a great shame for those who love it.
WITH POULTRY use things like oregano, parsley, coriander and mild spices. Serve with peaches, pawpaw or mango. Use fresh coconut shavings. Chicken breast are great with rubs and pastes – cut diagonal slits in the top of the breast and push the rub or paste into it before cooking. They are also fantastic when slit open and stuffed with things like pancetta, proscuitto, fetta, goat’s cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, roasted capsicums, baby spinach etc. Make sure you sew the slit shut with toothpicks to keep the filling in. Stir fry chicken quickly, and use any types of Asian sauces. Don’t bother measuring things like Chinese cooking wine, soy sauce, honey etc. It only takes a few seconds to taste it and see what you need to adjust. Add a tablespoon of cornflour to a couple of tablespoons of water or stock, then add to a wok to quickly thicken sauces. DON’T add cornflour directly to a pan – it will form lumps and taste yucky. Don’t be afraid to experiment with spices – but remember that only in Indian cooking is a huge variety of spices usually used in one dish. Learn to make your own curry pastes in a mortar and pestle or a food processor. Make a quantity and freeze what you don’t use. They are so much more authentic and aromatic than commercially prepared pastes. The same applies to Asian cooking. DON’T be afraid to adjust recipes to your own taste – if you like a green curry that is full of the tang of lime, add extra zest and juice, and maybe one or two more kaffir lime leaves than the recipe suggests – or add the same things to pep up a dull, commercial green curry paste. For red curries, add more chillies if you like it hotter, or more paprika, or cool it down with yoghurt. MAKE a quick raita (Indian accompaniment) with Greek yoghurt, diced cucumber and chopped mint.
WITH FISH use dill, parsley, chilli, lemongrass, limes and lemons. Use strong tasting rubs to flavour – do the same as with chicken to push the flavours into the fish. Cook quickly – 2-3 minutes per side. Overcooked fish will just fall to pieces when you try to take it out of the pan. Keep the skin on salmon, as it gets lovely and crisp when fried quickly at a high heat. I know it is time consuming, but run your fingers all over the fish flesh and remove ALL bones before cooking. There is nothing more off-putting than fine bones in your mouth. Fish boning tweezers can be bought quite cheaply from a kitchen supplier, or keep a small pair of cheap pliers just for the purpose. To steam fish either wrap in baking paper with your choice of herbs, ginger (cut into slivers) chillies (deseeded and cut into slithers) and citrus zest OR use banana leaves if you want to be a bit more exotic. Steam for 8-10 minutes in a bamboo steamer over a wok.
ALL THINGS FRUIT & VEGETABLE: Vegetables are staple foods full of vitamins and minerals – DON’T cook the life out of them. If serving vegetables as accompaniments or in salads, blanch for 2-3 minutes in boiling water, then dip straight into cold water to keep the colour. If you need to reheat them, USE THE MICROWAVE for 30 seconds. TO SKIN tomatoes and peaches, remove the stalk at the top, then cut a cross-shape into the skin at the bottom. Dip into boiling water for 30-60 seconds, then remove and drop into cold water. Skins should peel straight off. To DESEED tomatoes, cut in half horizontally and use a teaspoon to remove seeds. CUCUMBERS are best if cut in half along their length, then use a teaspoon to remove the seeds before chopping. This takes the bitterness out of them. Lebanese cucumbers are better than traditional thick cucumbers. The heat in CHILLIES is dependent on their size, and their seeds and membrane. The smaller the chilli, the hotter it usually is. To drastically reduce the heat, cut in half and scrape out the seeds and membrane – WEAR gloves when you do this – or keep your hands away from your face for a while after deseeding and chopping. Green chillies are usually milder than red. CAPSICUMS are a member of the chilli family. To roast capsicums, you can do one of two things – (A) Remove the seeds and membranes, cut into flattish slices and place under a high griller until they are blackened and blistered OR (B) rub with oil and place in a very hot oven until they are blackened and blistered. Remove and place into a plastic bag – laid flat – while still hot. Seal the bag and leaved for 15-20 minutes. When you remove the capsicum from the bag, the skin should peel off. LET your imagination go when adding fruit to salads – you can add anything from melons, pawpaws, mango, grapes, peaches, nectarines, apricots, kiwi fruit to strawberries, blueberries, apples, grapefruit or orange segments. TO MAKE AN EASY DRESSING when adding citrus to a salad, cut the segments from between the membranes and add to the salad. Squeeze the remaining juice from the remaining membrane into a bowl, then add 1-2 tablespoons of olive oil, whisk and add to salad. You can now buy ready-roasted cashews and peanuts to add to salads, but if you do need to ROAST cashews, peanuts or pine nuts to add to a salad, place spread on a tray in a moderate oven for about 5 minutes. You can ALSO ROAST THEM in a microwave using about 5-6 x 20 second bursts at HIGH.
The same goes for CHOCOLATE. Place in a heatproof bowl and microwave in 30-second bursts at HIGH until it has melted. REMEMBER that chocolate will retain its shape in a microwave, so you need to stir it after each burst to see how much it has melted. To melt traditionally, place chocolate in a glass bowl and place over a small saucepan of simmering water until it melts. DON’T allow steam to get into it, or any water, as it will sieze. IF CHOCOLATE DOES SIEZE, add small amounts of cream or butter to it until it returns to normal. DON’T use cheap brandy to flavour chocolate, as it often contains water, and again the chocolate will seize.
YOU CAN FREEZE left over pastry, grated cheese and eggwhites (though not the yolks). If a recipe requires just egg yolks, either freeze the whites till later, or use them to make meringues. If you don’t use a full knob of mozzarella, grate the remainder into a freezer bag and freeze.
TO SKIN GARLIC, place cloves on a chopping board and place the flat of a large kitchen knife on top of it. Hit sharply with your hand. The skin will pull away from the flattened flesh. There is NO NEED to skin fresh, young ginger.
To make your own SELF-RAISING FLOUR add 1½ teaspoons baking powder and ½ teaspoon salt to every cup of plain flour. CASTER SUGAR is used in baking as it is finer than table sugar, and dissolves quicker. RAW, DEMERARA & MUSCAVADO sugar have varying degrees of molasses left in them. Substitute one for another if you like a more treacle flavour in your baking. BAKING IS A SCIENCE, and cake baking and bread dough cooking are the only areas of cooking where the quantities and temperatures MUST be accurate for the end product to look like it should. Don’t guess, and don’t cut corners. IF A CAKE HAS A PEAKED HILL IN THE CENTRE when you remove it from the oven, the oven temperature was too high. If it is sunken, the temperature was too low, or it was not cooked for long enough. ALWAYS check your oven temperature with a thermometer when you first start to use it, so that you can adjust the temperature up or down accordingly. At home, I need to add 10 degrees to my oven temperature for it to be accurate. THE PUSH TEST is still the best way of judging if a cake is cooked. If it springs back when two fingers are pressed lightly onto the centre of the cake, it is cooked.
LITE CREAM cannot be whipped – the fat has been removed, so there is nothing to give it thickness. THICKENED CREAM can be substituted for pouring cream in many recipes. GRAVOX is as good as real gravy – but I never told you that. To make a cheats custard tart, buy a large sweet pie flan from your supermarket, and a packet of egg custard. Blind bake the flan (Place some baking paper in the flan – still frozen – and fill with rice or dried legumes. Bake for 10 minutes, then remove the paper and rice and bake for a further 10-15 minutes until golden), then make up the custard according to the packet instructions. Pour into the flan, sprinkle some nutmeg over it and chill until set. Tell everyone you spent hours making it.
SEA SALT flakes are the best for everything. CRACKED BLACK PEPPER should be on your work bench, and your table. VANILLA essence is a cheap substitute and should be avoided at all costs. Use only vanilla extract (halve what they recommend for essence) or vanilla bean paste. If you only use the seeds from a vanilla pod, place the pod in a jar of sugar to make vanilla sugar. This is great is coffee, and in all types of baking. Buy WHOLE nutmegs and grate as needed. Store all spices in glass jars, NOT in plastic. Gelatine leaves are best for cooking that requires gelatine. Use TITANIUM strength and soak in cold water for 5 minutes before adding to hot liquids. AGAR AGAR is a natural gelatine substitute, but you need to use a lot more than regular gelatine to get things to set. You can also buy powdered gelatine from supermarkets – use according to instructions. ARROWROOT can be substituted for cornflour. There are two types of rice paper – depending on what you are doing. There is a square white rice paper, bought from health food stores, that is used for things like nougat, macaroons and panforte. It is crisp and edible. The other is from supermarkets and Asian grocers, and used to make spring rolls. ROSEWATER is available from chemists and health food stores. Gold and silver leaf are edible, and available from many craft stores, or artist suppliers. Roses and lavender flowers are edible, however if you aren’t growing and picking them from your own garden, be careful. If they are bought from a florist, there is a high risk that they have been sprayed with insecticide. Places like ‘Herbies’ at Rozelle sell dried flowers that can be eaten.
OILS are a world of their own. Use whatever you prefer, however oils like canola and camellia tea oil have high smoke points – this means they can be raised to a very high temperature without burning. This makes them great for things like stir frying.

I could go on forever, but hope this gives you some help as you enter into the world of food cooking and food prep. Please contact me if you need any info on any cooking products or techniques.

Tim Alderman
Copyright 2014

So Can You Cook? 27

A Cup of Tea, a Bex…

My day is ruled by my cups of tea. I don’t feel really awake until I’ve had one with breakfast – often a bit of a wait, as the morning hound dog constitutional takes precedence – followed by a second while I do my business emails. Lunch time I allow myself the luxury of 1 cup of espresso – the only coffee I drink while at home. This is followed by another cup of tea in the afternoon, one after dinner and a cup of green tea around 9.00 in the evening.
I absolutely adore tea, and it is a bit of an obsession in my life. I love all the different flavours of the different blends – with a strong personal leaning towards Oolong tea – and have developed quite a love for green tea, either hot or cold. I have a number of articles about it on my web site at http://www.aldermanprovidore.com.au/news.html covering the traditions and rituals of tea drinking across many cultures. It also plays an integral part in the sales area of my site with a large range of tea blends, single estate tea, regional teas and tea accessories from the everyday to the more unusual.
To add to this, I collect Chinese blue & white teapots and Japanese tea accessories including bowls, ladels, whisks, cups and other assorted odds and ends associated with the art of tea drinking. I have a number of prized hand-made tea bowls, some being made locally.
As you immerse yourself more and more into the art of tea, you begin to see ways of incorporating smaller rituals into your daily life. These rituals give you a space in which you can slow down, immerse yourself in tea culture and use them as a means to meditation. There is nothing nicer than having a neighbour drop in during the day for a cuppa. It gives me a break in my work day, an opportunity to get outside in some fresh air, and gives me an excuse to get out one of my beautiful tea sets, make a small pot of Chinese Green Gunpowder tea, and go through the rituals of drawing the tea, and pouring it into the tiny cups that are part of traditional tea sets. You can then sit back, relax and chat, constantly refilling the cups. It’s funny how such a small thing can invigorate you for the rest of day.
Tea can also be incorporated into cooking, and the following are a diverse range of recipes using tea in an adventuresome and delicious way. So, pour yourself a cup of tea and decide what you are going to bake tonight.

SMOKY TOMATO SAUCE:
Smoking Mix
2 tablespoons Chinese or Ceylon tea leaves
2 star anise, crushed
1 strip orange peel
½ teaspoon five-spice powder
6 juniper berries, crushed

2 onions, quartered
2 red capsicums, cut into large pieces
2 red chillies, cut in half (remove seeds if you don’t like too much heat)
3 tablespoons oil
3 garlic cloves, chopped
500g tomatoes, chopped
2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
125ml barbeque sauce
2 tablespoons tamarind concentrate (Asian stores, or Asian section of supermarket)
1 tablespoon white vinegar
1 tablespoon soft brown sugar

Combine all the ingredients for the smoking mix in a bowl. Pour the mix into the centre of a sheet of foil, and fold the edges to prevent spreading. This will form a small container to help with smoking. Place the foil container in the bottom of a dry wok or wide frying pan. Put an open rack or steamer in the wok, making sure it is elevated over the mix.
Place the onion, capsicum and chilli on the rack and cover with a lid or tightly with foil to prevent the smoke from escaping.
Smoke over medium heat for 10-15 minutes or until the vegetables are tender. For a very smoky sauce, cook the vegetables for longer, or for less smokiness use less time. Remove the smoking mix container.
Dice the onion, capsicum and chilli quite finely. Heat the oil in the wok and add the garlic and cooked vegetables. Fry over medium heat for three minutes, then add the tomato and cook until pulpy. Add the sauces, tamarind, vinegar and sugar. Simmer, stirring occasionally, for 20-25 minutes or until the sauce is quite thick. Store in the fridge.
Makes about 1 litre

LADY GREY TEA & HAZELNUT FRIANDS:
Melted butter, to grease
100g (1 cup) hazelnut meal (supermarket, where nuts etc for cooking are kept)
115g self-raising flour
275g icing sugar mixture, sifted
1 teaspoon finely grated lemon rind
1½ tablespoons freshly brewed Lady Grey tea
125g butter, melted, cooled
5 egg whites, lightly beaten

Preheat oven to 180°C. Brush 6 ½ cup capacity muffin or fiand pans with melted butter to lightly grease.
Combine the hazelnut meal, flour, icing sugar mixture, lemon rind and tea in a medium bowl. Add the butter and egg whites, and stir until just combined.
Spoon the mixture amongst the prepared pans. Bake in preheated oven for 15-20 minutes or until golden, and a inserted skewer comes out clean. Set aside for 10 minutes to cool, before turning onto a wire rack to cool completely.
Makes 6

GREEN TEA SHERBET:
2½ cups water
1 cup sugar
¼ cup green tea
½ cup boiling water
300ml thickened cream
½ cup sour cream

Put the water in a medium heavy-based pan. Add the sugar and stir until dissolved. Bring to a simmer, and simmer without stirring for 12-15 minutes. Swirl pan occasionally but do not stir. Allow to cool.
Put the tea in a jug and pour in boiling water. Stand for 15 minutes. Strain through a sieve and discard tea leaves. Allow liquid to cool. Put cream in a bowl and beat with electric beaters for 2 minutes. Add sour cream while continuing to beat. Add sugar mixture and tea liquid. Beat until thickened.
Pour mixture into a loaf tin. Freeze for 1-2 hours or until firm around edges. Return to mixing bowl. Beat with electric mixer until smooth. Return to freezer for a further 1-2 hours, then beat again. Return to tin, then cover with plastic wrap before freezing for several hours or until firm.
Remove sherbet from freezer and stand in the fridge for 5 minutes. Serve scoops of the sherbet in teacups.
Serves 4

DATE, GINGER & ORANGE LOAF:
4 tablespoons orange pekoe tea leaves
1 cup pitted dates
1 cup water
peeled rind and juice 1 orange
100g chopped glace ginger
2 eggwhites
½ cup fat-free plain yoghurt
1½ cups self-raising flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon mixed spice

Preheat oven to 180°C. Put tea in a square of muslin (or a fine infuser) and tie with string. Grease and line a 17.5cm x 8.5cm loaf tin with baking paper. Put dates in a saucepan with water, rind, muslin bag (or infuser) and juice. Stir over a medium heat. Simmer for 10 minutes or until dates are soft and half the liquid has been absorbed. Allow to cool. Remove muslin bag and rind, and discard. Stir date mixture with a wooden spoon to form a soft mixture. Stir in ginger.
Whisk eggwhites until soft peaks form. Add yoghurt and date mixture. Stir until combined. Sift dry ingredients into a bowl. Make a well in the centre. Add date mixture and fold in gently until just combined, being careful not to overbeat. Spoon into prepared tin. Bake for 45-50 minutes, or until cooked through when tested with a skewer.
Serves 8

LEMON & EARL GREY BISCUITS:
250g butter, chopped
1 cup icing sugar, sifted
1 teaspoon finely grated lemon rind
2 egg yolks
2½ cups plain flour, sifted
2 teaspoons ground Earl Grey tea leaves ( grind in a mortar & pestle, or a coffee grinder)
2 tablespoons cooled strong Earl Grey tea
extra flour, for dusting

EARL GREY CREAM
125g butter, chopped
2 tablespoons cooled strong Earl Grey tea
1½ cups icing sugar mixture, sifted

Preheat oven to 180°C. Line 2 oven trays with baking paper. Put butter, icing sugar and rind in a small bowl. Beat with electric beaters until soft and creamy. Add yolks one at a time, beating between each yolk.
Transfer to a large bowl and stir in sifted flour, tea leaves and the cooled tea until the mixture forms a soft dough. Turn the dough onto a lightly dusted surface and knead gently until the mixture comes together. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1 hour.
Roll dough between 2 sheets baking paper until the dough is 5mm thick. Use a 7cm round cutter to cut out rounds. Put rounds onto prepared trays. Bake for 12-15 minutes or until lightly golden. Cool on the trays for 10 minutes before transferring to wire racks to cool.
To make Earl Grey cream; Beat the butter and cooled tea in the small bowl of an electric mixer until pale and creamy. Add the icing sugar gradually while continuing to beat until the mixture forms a soft icing. Spread one side of each biscuit with the Earl Grey cream and sandwich together. Allow to set.
Makes about 20

GREEN TEA PUNCH:
Put 4 rounded teaspoons of Bancha or Houjicha in a warmed pot and add 1 litre water that has been boiled and allowed to cool slightly. Leave to infuse for 102 minutes, then strain into a jug. While the tea is still hot add 1-2 tablespoons brandy or rum, and 2 tablespoons of honey, to taste. Serve in tall glasses or cups, and add a slice of orange or lemon.
NB Use any green tea if the Japanese varieties are not available.

VANILLA ICED GREEN TEA:
Brew 4 rounded teaspoons Sencha in 1 litre of hot water and allow to infuse for 1-2 minutes. Strain into a jug and add 1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice and 1 tablespoon honey. Stir well and chill. To serve, use a wine glass for each person and place a scoop of vanilla ice cream in each glass. Pour over the chilled green tea.

TEA SORBET:
570ml water
175g caster sugar
freshly sqeezed juice and strips of rind from 2 lemons
2 tablespoons Earl Grey tea leaves
1 eggwhite

Put the water, sugar, lemon juice and rind into a saucepan, bring to the boil and allow to cool 3-4 minutes. Add the tea leaves, take the pan off the heat, cover and leave until cold.
Strain the tea into a freezer-proof bowl or box, cover and place in the freezer until half frozen. Whisk the eggwhite until stiff then fold into the mixture. Freeze again until solid.
Arrange in glass dessert dished and garnish with a single mint leaf, and a few raspberries or strawberries.

TEA MARINADE FOR CHICKEN:
1 teaspoon Gyokuro leaves ( nor good quality Sencha)
2-3 tablespoons soy sauce
2-3 cloves garlic, crushed
1-2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tablespoon honey
2-3 tablespoons sunflower oil

Mix all the ingredients together. Add the chicken in chunks or strips and spoon the marinade over. Cover and chill in the fridge for up to 10 hours. Life the chicken out of the marinade and remove the bits of tea and garlic. Strain the marinade into a bowl. Grill or stir-fry the chicken, brushing from time to time with the strained marinade.
Serve with salad or as a sandwich filling.

Tim Alderman
Copyright 2014

  

Communities

Communities, like many other things in life, tend to swap and change as you go through life, get older, change circumstances and a myriad of other reasons.

As a youngster growing up in the outskirts of Sydney in the 50’s and 60’s, communities were like safety zones in areas that were just starting to develop (like Sylvania, where I was born). Everybody kept and eye on everybody else, and you often, to a large extent, lived as much in your neighbours home as you did your own. People were alwayts available for a chat, baking was shared around the neighbourhood, everyone knew your dog, and you knew everybodies name. Religion, whether you just practised to be ‘part of” the community (as my parents did) or for actual reasons of belief didn’t seem to really matter. When there was a birth or a marriage, everyone came to visit and join in. When somebody died, everybody mourned. It was close and nurturing. However, it had its drawbacks. Perhaps everybody knew a little TOO much about everybody else. When my mother deserted the family home, I remember not so much what was said as what wasn’t said – as if it had been expected.

My next community was boarding school – very Catholic, and I have to say very fulfilling. I had a large circle of close friends as I had through most of my school life, people who respected me and wanted to know my opinions. However, the wide divide between city boys and country boys (it was an agricultural college) became evident when I left school, and found that I didn’t continue contact with any of them.

I seemed to move from that to a very hectic ‘straight’ community after leaving school. Again, it was a large group of friends who I socialised with pretty well every weekend. We dined out, drank way too much, went to far too many concerts, and were heavily involved in each others lives – again, not necessarily a good thing. When I made a large move from a local suburb to another in a distant state, the friendships just seemed to drift away. I guess the glue that held the group together wasn’t all that strong after all.

Moving into the gay community was a big leap for me, and also one of the strongest of the communities I have lived in, and in some sense it still has an influence on my life, though not as strongly as in the 80’s and 90’s. Let’s face it – I lived ‘gay’. I drank in gay pubs (way too much), danced in gay nightclubs (way way too much), read gay media, shopped in gay shops, went to gay doctors and solicitors, lived for Mardi Gras and Sleaze Ball, and had lots and lots and lots of gay sex (never too much!). Life in the ghetto was just one big ‘gay’. Even the advent of HIV didn’t deminish the gayness of life, though with becoming infected with HIV I did sort iof find my loyalities divided between the gay and the HIV communities. And whether we like to admit it or not, they were separate, and if you were HIV+ it was hard not to hang out with others in the same boat as you were, as in many respects, they were out support group, our sources of information and, in far too many circumstances, people to mourn with. Yet despite the cameradie that came from within that community I never really felt that I clicked into it like many others. I loved my life being centred around ‘gay’, but didn’t quite feel the same affinity with ‘HIV’. I tried joining groups and organisations but really realised that I never wanted to be information-driven as far as HIV went. I didn’t want it to be a central component of my life, something to hide behind when I didn’t have an answer to ‘why is this happening, or why is that happening’. Even after a debilitating and life-threatening run-in with AIDS I didn’twant to get drawn too far into HIV’s mbrace. I went through all the steps involved to recover from it – then just moved on and sort of left it behind. Yes, perhaps I do involve myself in that I do write about HIV, but I always try to put it in the background to what I do, never in the forefront.

Recently, we moved again (I had a partner in tow). I have pretty well also moved away from ‘gay’ and probably have as many straight friends these days as gay, if not more. Life evolves. It is about two month’s since we moved to Ashgrove, and if we were ever to wonder just how well integrated we had become within this community, last Saturday probably dispelled any fear we may have had. It started with a chat over the back fence about the garden with our neighbours, and a co-joint decision to work from both sides of the fence to repair our overgrown and neglected yard. We then got tied into a lengthy concersation with some other dog owners at the off-leash dog park. These people live in the next suburb, and we get along very well with them so a friendship will probably develop. The girls in the local cafe know us as Saturday regulars and make us our coffee’s without us ordering, and chat to us as they go about their work. The owner iof a local store drops in for his coffee, and inquires how my recent purchases are going, to be followed by the manager and a staff member from our gym who stops in for a chat about his recent holiday. I have to say that all this chatting and laughing made me feel very cosy, and I realised just how much we were settling into our new community, and had been accepted by all those who had been members for some time. This really is what community is about. People getting along, interacting with each other and helping to make everybodies else’s lives just that little more pleasant. I’m positive that everybody knows we are gay – it is pretty obvious – but no one gives a damn. They are not as nosey as my first community, and I think I would like it left that way.

Tim Alderman
Copyright 2014

  

The Evolution/Devolution of Cleo

In 2001, while doing my writing degree at UTS, I submitted a 13,000 word tome for evaluation, titled “Cleo’s Reflection” – my recollections of my past to my hairdresser as he did up my wig for my final drag appearance. My tutor, a tiny Asian fag-hag (love or hate the phrase), was ecstatic about it, and on questioning the class on what the story represented, and getting the usual crap replies that you would expect from 20-year-olds, enlightened them to it being ” A Sydney story!”, which actually gave me goosebumps.
I have done a couple of edits over the years, but recently decided it was time to get to the bare bones of what “Cleo’s Reflection was really all about. I do intend to publish the full-length tome, but it has bern sitting around for 13 years now, and I imagine a few more won’t matter much. So, here in a nutshell – sort of – is the chopped down version of “Cleo’s Reflection”…”The Evolution/Devolution of Cleo”.

My writing tutor at UTS called this a “Sydney story”, but as I got right to the root of what Cleo was (escapism, flipping the coin, daring) I realised more and more just what a “gay” story it was, and perhaps more importantly – for Cleo was born at the very beginning of the HIV era, and bowed out at its height – that it is a “HIV” story, and of its time..

Cleo’s persona was born, so I like to say, out of pure curiosity. In late 1983, ‘she’ made ‘her’ first public appearance at one of Sydney’s annual parties, called Sleaze Ball, put on annually by the Sydney Gay and Lesbian community. It was a daring move for me, and a move into unexplored territory.

I have had a fascination with ‘gutter drag’ since coming out in 1980. Drag has always been synonymous with the gay community here, though usually more in a serious vein than as send-up or parody. ‘The Oxford Hotel’ opened in 1983 on Sydney’s gay ghetto of Oxford Street, and become an instant hangout for the city’s clone brigade. Simultaneous to the growth of the clone phenomenon was the growth in popularity of gutter drag, and several troupes routinely plied their talents between bars along the gay strip. Most famous of these were ‘The Planet Sluts’, and many a Saturday night out was brightened up by their sudden appearance in ‘The Oxford’.

They had a look that I was always slightly envious of, in that they were cocks in frocks, an over-exaggerating of the femaleness of drag without losing the masculine aspects. It was a phenomena that could only have happened in the gay community and though there were mixed reactions, permission was granted for its continuance. It was a look that I wanted to try – badly!

One minute I would be having a quiet drink with friends in the bar, and a bit of a bop to the music, and the next thing I knew, all hell had broken loose. These four guys would barge in from the street. They would have wigs backcombed to within an inch of their lives and absolutely huge; totally over the top make-up; and frocks that would have been the envy of even serious drag queens (sort of!) – tulle for days, and totally outrageous. But what really made it for me was the fact that they shaved neither faces, chests nor arms and legs, and that was what gave gutter drag not only its name, but also its appeal.

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The Planet Sluts – Photograph curtesy of Richard Turner

So Sleaze Ball 1983 was the first time I decided to attempt to emulate this form of drag. I have to admit it wasn’t terribly successful! My flatmate (who was also my lover at that time) had done a bit of drag during the 70’s. I didn’t really want to spend a lot of money on this one particular occasion, and asked him if he would do the wig up for me. Mistake number one! The poor wig ended up looking like a poor relation to Dusty Springfield, but he had done his best, and I felt it was unwarranted to criticise his efforts. Mistake number two! Choice of frock. It was a Marilyn Monroe crepe Halston style rip-off, and by the time the whole outfit came together, I looked like a bloody society matron heading off for a Sunday luncheon. It also didn’t go down well at the party, especially considering the look was nowhere near the Planet Slut look that I wanted to achieve.

The Sydney parties in those days were small affairs (5,000 – 6,000 gay guys), not the huge extravaganza’s they are now, and needless to say, I would have slutted around and slept with at least half the party-goers. My reputation as an aggressive little bottom was ruined, and the message columns in the local gay rags ran hot with malicious gossip about me for the next couple of issues. Undaunted, I decided to forge on!

That night, Cleo was born. She may only have been a name, but the seeds of creation were planted.

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No secrets bback in the early 80s, thanks to the Star Observer

My next attempt was in the Sydney Gay Mardi Gras parade in 1984 – it had not become The Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras at that stage – and it wasn’t much better than my first attempt, except that I did myself up so that nobody would recognise me this time around. The floats in the parade were all pretty tragic. The Mardi Gras organisation had not set up workshops in these early days, so organisations and businesses just put floats together as best they could, with little taste, and no artistic direction. The one I was on was exceptionally tacky, with everyone on the float being workers for one of the local sex shops, (Numbers Bookshop), and the owner giving us a zero budget to work with. The back of the truck was covered in aluminium foil – very flashy indeed, with a sound system that only worked when the mood took it, which wasn’t very often. The manager of the store, who went under the drag persona of Miss Phoenix had a fairly over the top drag style, though a bit too serious to be gutter drag. Still, he managed to outshine the rest of us on the night, who looked like aliens out of the early days of Dr Who, and I was rather thankful for the anonymity that It afforded me. No photographs exist of that tragic episode in history…I am so glad to say!

In late 1984 I met my next lover, Damien. Frank, the one who had been the creator of the first Cleo wig had been very unceremoniously dumped. Damien was a pretty boy, and a bit of a devil, and liked to think that I didn’t know about him trashing around behind my back. His longevity as a partner was terminated after he faked a suicide attempt. However, before I pissed him off, he talked me into doing drag with him on two occasions, and still I could not get the look together. In fact, the first time I went out with him in drag, I was mistaken for his mother! Really! Not impressed! What was I doing wrong, I asked myself? I knew how I wanted to look. I had the mustache and hairy chest and legs, but somehow my image kept coming across a little bit too seriously. The realisation slowly dawned that I had to stop myself from holding back, that I just had to let my head go, and revel in the whole concept of being a cock-in-a-frock, instead of trying to look like a man dressed as a woman.

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Is my mother here!

In 1985, I met Stella, a.k.a. Stuart. I also met my next lover Tony. It wasn’t an auspicious beginning for a new relationship, as I was trying, as I had been trying for many months, to get Stuart into the sack. On this particular afternoon, success was within reach, with Stuart in an apt state of inebriation for seduction, and me moving in for the kill. Well, almost moving in for the kill! Tony sort of got in the way. He had been eyeing me off for most of the afternoon, and I had already gathered that he was a new boy in town – the spider moving in on the fly. He proceeded to start talking with me in the middle of the Stuart seduction, and came over so cute and naïve that by the time night settled in, I had him at home instead of my original quarry.

In some respects, I don’t regret that it happened that way. Tony ended up as my lover for the next four years – and was the main reason for my getting tested for HIV in 1985, and coming up positive (which had nothing to do with Tony) – and though he thought it was the perfect relationship, he was the only one who ever saw it through rose tinted glasses. This time, it was me who plated up…and got caught out! As for Stuart and I, well we ended up good friends, and became drag buddies after Don died – but I am getting ahead of myself here. I will introduce you to Don shortly, and more on Stuart a bit later.

By Mardi Gras 1986, Cleo’s evolution had started. I hunted around the second-hand stores, and eventually managed to find the perfect wig. It was as white-as-white, and it could be hammered into just about any style that you wanted. The wig quickly became my signature, and many years later when I gave up gutter drag, many people would not believe I had stopped until I told them I had given ‘Cleo’ – as the wig also came to be called – away.

I made a huge fishtail frock for that Mardi Gras, in the most gorgeous Thai-silk green fabric, and for the first time – though not the last – got a hairdresser friend in to style the wig. He loved working with it, and had it pulled and stretched into this fantastic wild, white storm. The frock looked great, and there were huge plumes of emerald green ostrich feathers pouring out the back of it. I did the make-up myself, and though in the transitionary phase, it looked better than it ever had before. Add a profusion of diamante jewellery, stiletto shoes, and fishnet stockings, and it was all starting to happen.

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Contemplating life with permanently green skin: Mardi Gras 1986. With Tony Kelly.

Unfortunately, the one thing I hadn’t counted on that year was rain. Mardi Gras night has traditionally been a night when you are never quite sure what the weather is going to do, and this one was no exception. Half way through the parade, the rain poured down. I decided to go home and get out of the sopping wet frock and into something dry before going on to the party. Well, my lovely emerald green ostrich feathers decided to run, didn’t they! I had skin in the most subtle shade of green. It took hours to scrub it off. I gave up feathers after that. Much too risky!

Later that year, a DJ mate of mine who worked at ‘The Oxford’ invited me to his annual colour-themed party. That year, it was ‘Green with Envy’. The object of these parties were that if you decided to go, you had to wear the specified colour, and you had to wear drag. A little leather mate of mine called Andrew was also given an invite. We all got quite a laugh out of this, as Andrew was a leather munchkin – through and through. None of us could ever have envisioned him in drag. But he wanted to go to the party. Andrew. was one of the first in my circle of friends to contract AIDS, and he spent most of his time then going in and out of hospital – more in than out. He told me he had never done drag, and he didn’t want to exit this world feeling that there was one experience that he had missed. However, he didn’t want to do it seriously, and I had to couple with him. I agreed, and together we put together this rather macho little drag number, with green wig, and army boots, and this tacky little skirt. He looked a hoot, and had the time of his life. I’m glad I spent that night with him, and I’m glad I helped him get that whole ‘thing’ together, even if my own outfit was an abomination. I hated wearing green, and decided most definitely, that if Andrew was going to look bad, I was going to look worse. I succeeded beyond all expectation! He ended up back in hospital shortly after that party, and he didn’t come back out this time. He died on Boxing Day (December 26th) that year, and I’m sad to say that he was just the first of many.

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Green with Envy in Lavender Bay – that’s a bit clashy, love! With Andrew Todd

Cleo was defined by the time Sleaze Ball 1986 rolled around. She had come into her own. A persona – and for many years an icon (Yeah! Right!) – was born. Surprisingly, I didn’t wear Cleo for this event, opting instead for a no.2 buzz cut, jelled straight up into the air, and sprayed bright red. The make-up matched, with lots of red, and very unsubtle use of other bright colours. But the outfit was the defining point, and was to be how Cleo was to be seen up to the day I finally decided to hang up the heels. I spent a fortune on a leather corse – not an easy item to obtain in Sydney back in those days – and teamed it with a leather garter belt, fishnet stockings and stilettos. The jewellery was all huge and red, and over all, the effect was beyond even my expectations. That year, I was photographed at every turn, and ended up in a Sleaze Ball montage in one of the gay rags. My boss was so smitten with this sleazy, slutty, trashy look that he used the pictures in the shop’s advertising the following year. Three ‘British Airways’ boys whom I had regular threesomes with when they were in town fell in love with the ‘new’ Cleo, and proceeded to not only give her picture pride of place in a return flight to Britain, but proceeded to stick her photo up on lightpoles from one end of England to the other. This was notoriety, and I relished it!

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Trash at last! Sleaze Ball 1986

Needless to say, for the next couple of years, I took every opportunity to put the new Cleo on show, and she created her own demand!

I was not to be a solo act for very long. The story of how Don and I came to be partnered is odd, and was a lesson for me in how easy it is to misjudge people. He was a friend of another couple I knew, Steve and Geoff. Every year, they held a large party in their Glebe terrace called ‘The Annual Port and Cheese Party’. It was a much looked-forward to event, and to get an invitation was to be ‘in the right group’,though not in a snobby way. I had met Don at ‘The Oxford’ on several occasions, and he was one of those people who on a first meeting , comes across as loud mouthed, and rather crass. It was for these reasons that I had spent a considerable amount of time avoiding him. He was one of the privileged who got an invite to the ‘Port and Cheese’, and he wanted to go in drag, so Geoff rang me up and asked me if I would make a frock for him. Now, I should point out that Geoff was someone who it was very difficult, if not impossible, to say NO to. He was one of Gods true gentlemen, and a kinder, gentler, more generous man I have never met to this day. What could I do? I gritted my teeth, and said yes!

So a couple of nights later, Don showed up on my doorstep with an armload of gold lame. As I was to find out over the next couple of nights, he was not the loudmouth that I had originally imagined him to be. Sure, he was loud, but he had a heart of gold, and a great sense of humour. He was also a bastard to fit with a frock, as I soon found out. He wanted to look really elegant, but he had this damn gut, and trying to fit him into even my largest pattern just wasn’t going to happen. I ended up making the frock to the pattern, then inserting this huge gusset into the back of the frock to get it around his stomach. I told him he might have to wear either a corset, or a longline bra. He just laughed. I also told him that I had this great hairdresser,and offered to lend him some jewellery (this was his first time in drag, after all!), but he insisted that he knew what he was doing, and he had the rest of the outfit at home. I should have argued a bit harder! He turned up at the party looking great in the frock, but the wig looked like one of his mothers rejects after a wind storm, and he wore – wait for it – plastic jewellery! I never let him live that down. Plastic jewellery on a drag queen! I mean tawdry is tawdry, but plastic is stooping too low even for gutter drag. He accessorised a lot more carefully after that party. This was also the night that I was photographed in The Oxford…and made the cover of The Star Observer!

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Just ignore my sister/girlfriend. Gold lame is so last year! With Don Tickle.
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You want me on the cover! Any cute boys? Oh…one of the Carter boys…AND Ruby Pollock! Okay then!

He and I did a few drag outings together after that. There was one occasion when I stupidly allowed him to make his own frock. I never let him do that again either. It was hideous! And it was all everyone at the party we attended could do to not tell him to his face. Oh sure, they had the time of their lives behind his back, but not even an under-the-breath-mutter to his face. I have to admire queens sometimes. They’re not always bitchy! I think the most memorable of our outings was ‘The Oxford’s’ 5th birthday party in 1987. They had a themed party every year for their birthday, and that year they chose Egyptian. If you were one of the ‘regulars’ at the hotel, which meant pretty much drinking there every day and night of the week – which we did then – you were invited to a private reception with free cocktails at 2.00pm. The pub was officially opened to the general public at 3.00pm, so you made sure you got there at dead on 2.00, and got as many drinks in as you could before you had to start paying. Don and I decided to do Egyptian drag, and spent the whole night before the party putting together these fabulous Egyptian outfits from gold lurex, with lots of gold fringing and braid, and got the hairdresser over in the after noon to do the wigs up, complete with intertwined gold serpents. We really looked great, and made quite a spectacle walking from Don’s place in Darlinghurst to the pub. Nothing like a bit of street theatre in broad daylight! The look was almost perfect. Almost! Nobody warned me about the non-photogenic aspects of gold grease paint, which I had covered my entire face in. It looks green in photographs, and you can imagine my horror when the first photos appeared after the event. I looked like I had green fungus growing all over my face. Tony never let me live that little mistake down. I’m so glad he had a raging hangover the next morning. Little prick!

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I wonder if Cleopatra had problems with gold greasepaint! The Oxford Hotels 5th Birthday. With Les Skinner, Don Tickle & Bubba.

Don and I did a disastrous cocktail party at a serious-type drag queens place shortly after that. Same party was seriously marred by some stupid queens passing around spiked joints without checking what they were spiking them with. The party came to a very abrupt end after everyone either tried to cram into the very small toilet to throw-up, or passed out on the hostesses bed. Ah, good old 80s parties. Nothing like them for disaster, and humiliation. We were so out if it that we were caught not looking glamorous at one stage. I know! Unbelievable!

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Yes, beauty does run in the family! With Don Tickle.

By far the best night out that Don and I did was Anzac Day ’87! We both decided to go out as Army Strumpets. So this involved mini skirts, with belted army shirts, fishnet stockings, leopard print socks and gloves, stiletto’s, and our trademark wigs with forces caps. For my part, I decided to wear a set of blue plastic inflatable tits under my shirt to make sure the boys had something to look at. Thankfully, I crammed the pump into my handbag! The night started very quietly in The Oxford…not! We both got stuck into the shots. By the time we teamed up with the rest of our battalion – my flatmate, Steve & Geoff, and another friend James we were strumpeting along nicely. It was around about this stage that I realised my tits were not going to stay fully inflated for the entirety of our bivouac. Geoff jumped in, took control of the pump, and made himself official titty pumper for the night. So just before we were about to enter any venue, we would stop outside, I would unbutton my army shirt, flop the saggy blue plastics out, and Geoff would pump them up, shirt would be rebuttoned…and we would enter said venue. And it was a long march…The Flinders, The Albury, The Unicorn, and The Paddo Green – who definitely weren’t pleased to see us due to the “macho” image of the pub…though I was mates with the owner, so a wink was exchanged, and it was “fuck you boys…we’re out for fun!”. We returned to The Oxford at some stage, in some condition only to be told that The Flinders had been looking for us as we had won a costume prize there! We never did claim it, but it went down as one of the best nights out I have ever had in Sydney.

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Two hot boogie-woogie bugle girls looking for a Company B…the WHOLE of Company B! With Don Tickle

Don only did one solo drag outing after that. I suspected that he was ill, but he was a lot worse than he let on to any of us. For once, it wasn’t HIV, which in a very perverse way a lot of us were glad about – a reality-check that people were still dying from ordinary, everyday diseases, instead of the dreaded lergy. Don was dying from stomach cancer. We worked together in the sex shop at this stage, and I often filled in his shifts when he was too ill to get in to work. I finally managed, after getting a very frightening phone call from him one night, to get him to admit himself to hospital. Most of us thought it would be a long period of palliative care for him, but as I was about to go and visit him the following night, I ran into a friend coming back from the hospital. Don had just died. I was quite devastated, as we had become quite close over the short time we had spent together, and we had so much fun doing our gutter drag together. I suddenly felt very lonely. We gave him a fitting, gay send-off, and I and another friend scattered his ashes in the Mardi Gras parade that year. We sieved all the chunky bits out, and mixed him with glitter. Nobody was aware of what was going on, but Don would have loved the thought of being sprinkled over people in the parade. He had always been a real party boy. My only misgiving was coming home from the party the next morning. I was wandering down Oxford Street, and suddenly saw the street sweepers going up the parade route. I thought to myself, with a sudden feeling of horror “My God, poor Don’s ended up in a bloody street sweeping machine!” Fortunately, and to their merit, everyone saw the funny side of it. I regaled many a dinner party with THAT story.

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Spreading Don’s ashes at Mardi Gras 1988. Sparkle in the heavens, my friend. With Darby Willcox.
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RIP. Life is that bit less fun without you.

Stuart – or Stella to most – and I buddied up shortly after that event. Seeing as we both worked in the sex industry, we decided to throw a sex toy party at my apartment in Darlinghurst, using stock from the store to put together what might be called a deviates version of a ‘Tupperware’ party. About 200 invites went out, but with it being held on a Saturday night, we thought everyone would be too busy doing other things to turn up. Wrong! About 108 people crammed themselves into my apartment. Drag shows that we had planned – we both wore drag, naturally – had to be cancelled due to a lack of space, and we didn’t even have a table available to be able to do the dildo and vibrator demonstrations that we had planned. People flocked in from near and far to purchase sex toys of every shape and size, blow-up dolls, leather goods of every description from the shortest cockrings to the longest stock whip, S/M & B/D gear and devices, and lubes and condoms in every size, shape and flavour imaginable. We made a small fortune out of the night, and it was a good way to show the boss how good merchandising can really work.

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No!!!! My sister Stella and I are NOT like that! With Stuart Law and a multitude of others.

At the end of ’88 I did a ‘Port and Cheese’ party in a Cleo-goes-punk type outfit. I had made a corset for a friend out of some black vinyl, and as payment for the job, which wasn’t difficult, he told me to keep the leftover vinyl. I made a full circle skirt with a plunging neckline corset top out of it, with a matching collar attached to the frock with chains. I spent about a week at work studding the damn thing, and I have to say it looked great, and was a huge smash at the party.

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I considered a softer look then thought…why would I do that!

Toward the end of that year, Stella and I attended a charity party for The Far West Children’s Home at a friend’s apartment in Bondi. On a dare from another friend, we performed live, doing both a Christmas carol, and the Pointer Sisters ‘Dare Me’. Well, we brought the house down, and I don’t think many of us had laughed so much for quite a while. HIV had really taken a heavy toll on most of our lives, and many, including myself, found it best to hide all the sadness under a veneer of happiness, and a haze of cigarette smoke and alcohol. That at least made it bearable. Stella borrowed my punk frock for that party, and I never did get it back off her. Bitch! She wore it everywhere for a while after that, and I’m glad she got so much enjoyment out of it. She deserved the good times.

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Calls herself my sister THEN steals my frock! With Stuart Law.

Our last outing together was in mid ’89. I made Stella this fabby frock out of royal blue velvet and taffeta with these huge jewelled shoulder pads. I had a mile of red loose-thread Lurex at home, and made myself this huge bubble frock with a silver and black Lurex top. We got made-up in my apartment, and as we waddled our way over to The Oxford for a drink before going on to a party, two lesbians followed us down the street, flattering us with compliments about how great we looked, that real women could never get it together to look as good as drag queens, and how well we walked in heels (it’s a weight thing, I swear!). Well, if that didn’t put the night off to a great start! Who would ever have thought that lesbians liked to see men dressed as women? Gives you something to think about, doesn’t it? Anyway, after this old guy chased me around the bar for about an hour, harassing me to go home with him for a fuck (there always has to be one, doesn’t there! I mean, if I was half ways attractive in gutter drag, I could understand it, but…) we decided to leave for the party. Halfway down Oxford Street, the next thrill for the night is about to happen, apart from dancing briefly with two police men who were silly enough to smile at us as we giggled and staggered about. Yes, the ultimate drag queen delight – a tour bus full of Japanese tourists! I don’t know who was more thrilled – the driver, or the tourists. Everyone knows that Sydney’s Oxford Street is the home of gaydom, but you just can’t expect to drive up the street, and see two drag queens coming toward you. Well let me tell you, didn’t Stella and I put on a pose-and-vogue show for all those clicking cameras. Just to think, drag photos of me not just in Britain, but in Japan as well. My image has traveled further than I have, for Gods sake! Well, we did make it to the party, but it seemed a bit of a let down after all the other events of that evening.

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Sisters are doin’ it for themselves. With Stuart Law.

I have photos of Stella from that evening. The ones taken at the party show a happy, fun-loving, carefree boy. The ones at home as he is getting changed show something else entirely. I think Stella knew that night that he would never be doing this sort of thing again, and for just one instant in time, the camera caught the look that said it.

About two weeks later, Stella was admitted to the Sacred Heart Hospice in Darlinghurst. I went to visit him just before the end. He was really doped up, but was really glad to see me, and I sat on the bed and held his hand, and we reminisced about all the good times we had together. As I left his room and headed towards the elevator, I had this sudden urge to turn around. Stella was sitting up in bed, watching me leave. Our eyes locked for a second, and I knew that I would never see him again. I cried all the way home. He died the following night.

His death absolutely tore the heart out of me. First Don, now Stuart. I felt as if everything was falling apart around me. I attended two functions in drag after that, but the fun was sort of missing without a mate to share it with. Don’t get me wrong…I had a great time…after all, I was with friends. A progressive dinner with three couples – 3 in drag, 3 in dinner suits was a welcome panacea after all that had gone on. The itinerary for the night was cocktails in Glebe, entree in North Bondi, main in Bourke St Darlinghurst, and dessert in Goulburn St, Darlinghurst. The first signs of the night going down hill rapidly occurred when one of the drag artistes – for some unknown reason – decided that in the absence of hairspray, they would spray there wig with hobby glue. Naturally, the fumes from said glue caused the artistes eyes to run copiously…which resulted in make-up running everywhere. So there were frequent stops in bathrooms to repair damage…only to hav.e it happen again et al. I had not stopped to think of how hard it would be to prepare a main with nails on. I admire anyone who can, so that took forever. Heedless to say, ,copious amounts of alcohol were consumed at every stop, so by the time we got to dessert in Darlington Towers we were totally sloshed. Evidently we made so much noise that someone in the building called the police! All us girls screamed, and disappeared into the bathroom giggling drunkenly, leaving the butch (not!) boys to handle the cops.

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It’s a dinner! How much trouble could I get into?
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Who IS this man! With David Ashton.

The final party I attended with “the group” was in Glebe, and was a 50s party. Two of my ex’s decided to stir me up by both attending together in drag. That was a laugh. A friend attended as “an orphan baby dumped on the doorstep”…literally. I’m glad I went. I had a great time but there was a sadness in the air, a feeling of something completing its course and coming to an end. Geoff died not long after this, so life as we had known it at Glebe ceased.

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You don’t need to tell me! Gorgeous and 50s housewifey…right!
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I AM slaving in the kitchen’

My 36th birthday was in early 1990. I decided to throw a party to sell off all the drag and costumes that I had accumulated over the years. My health wasn’t the best at the time, perhaps because I smoked 100 cigarettes a day and drank myself into oblivion every night, or perhaps because HIV had decided that it was my turn. Whatever the reason, I couldn’t maintain my weight, and my energy would give out very quickly. I hoped that I would see my 40th birthday (at that time, 50 definitely seemed out of the question), but even that hope was in doubt. I dressed myself in drag for the last time, using all borrowed items except for the famous wig. By the time the last person left my apartment that night, there would not be a scrap of drag, a single accessory, shoe, bag, piece of jewellery, fragment of fabric or a pair of laddered pantyhose left in the place. A friend called Philip (or Phyllis, as he preferred to be called) was the last to leave, and as he went out the door, I yelled at him to come back for a second. As he turned around, I pulled Cleo off my head, and threw her to him, saying simply “Give her a good time. She deserves it”.

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THE END!

So Cleo hung up her heels. It was time to exorcise some of the past, and move on. I had spent too much time feeling disempowered. It was time to empower myself, and get my life back into some order. There was a group of eighteen of us that used to hang out in one corner of ‘The Oxford’. It was our corner, and if we were around, nobody else would come near it. Well, there were only six of us left at that stage. Fucking virus! It was a sure means of depleting your social circle. There were still times when I wished I didn’t have to remember people and things, that memories were more like a curse. I wished I could just leave everything in the past where it belonged. Life just didn’t happen that way. Then I thought it was maybe my gift to remember them, to tell all their stories and keep their memories alive in some way. You see, none of them ended up with headstones, and none had books written about them. This was perhaps the only testament to their lives. I think those memories were my tribute to their fun, their love of life, and their bravery. Without them, I would never have been the person I was, and I would never have experienced life the way I did. I realised then that none of us is the sum of our whole existence; we were the sum of a whole lot of people who floated into our lives, and floated out, and profoundly changed things forever. If I had ever been afraid to die, I no longer was. Through dying, I would have been meeting up with them again, having a good old gossip, and discussing what frocks we were going to wear to the next party. I firmly believed that. I believed that after you died, you were reunited with everyone and everything you had ever loved. At least I had that hope to hang onto.
Fuck, I needed it!
And now I need a fucking drink!

FOOTNOTE: It is now mid 2001, and I am still alive. I have seen my 40th birthday (just!), and am only three years away from 50. It hasn’t been an easy time. I have been disabled by AIDS, and was whisked (literally) from the arms of death in 1996 when they started me on the then new combination therapy. I have never done drag since that final party, and I don’t think the peripheral neuropathy in my feet would take too kindly to me levering my poor toes into stilettos these days. But I have all the photos (and all the memories) from those days, and I often look through them for both a laugh and a cry. I am attending The University of Technology in Sydney at the moment, hoping to finish my Graduate Diploma in Writing around my 51st birthday. Part of my writing has been to put the memories of these people onto paper. They were wonderful friends, and a true inspiration, and I want their memories to live on. This is my tribute to them.

And as much as I hate to admit it, there is in the life of every gutter drag quean those rare occasions where errors of taste and sins of design occur. Not one to want you all to think it was a life of glamour – I offer you Cleo’s blooper reel * Cringes and hangs head in shame*.

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I think this was a Sleaze Ball. A rose between…with Lance Lyon and Stuart Law
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WTF! Well, it was only Fergies wedding. Want to suck my toes?
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Well, it was still esrly days! In Kellett Way, Kings Cross
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If I’d gone harder with the make-up…I may have got away with this!
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NEVER wear stilleto’s on the lawn! At North Bondi
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Never offer to help out at friend’s parties! There is no way of knowing what they’ll put you in!
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Helping hands to fix a stilleto fail!
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I’m using a straw so I must be a laydee!

Tim Alderman
Final edit
Copyright 2014

Cleo loves ya, baby!

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Daily (Or When The Mood Takes Me) Gripe: Messages From the Lord

It is no secret amongst my atheist, agnostic, no-religious-tag friends…who are many…that I intensely dislike religion! Loathe it! You only have to look at what is happening in the Middle-East right this moment to start to understand why I have no belief in God. Oppression, murder, hate, abuse, destruction, mind-control, misery are some of the words I use to describe religion.

In my opinion, never has a bigger con-job been fostered on the world than religion. How we, as supposedly thinking and evaluating humans, allowed this to happen is, at times, beyond me. Sorry, but St Peter standing at the pearly gates to allow you to wander down the streets of gold is pure fantasy in my books, let alone a guy in a red body suit accessorised with horns and pitchfork turning up the flames and poking everyone in the bum. Don’t even start me on the twelve virgins!

Indo not deny the existence of Jesus. He is a historical fact, and mentioned in Flavius Josephus’s “History of the Jews”. However, virgin births, holy spirits, feeding 5,000 with a loaf of bread and a fish, changing water into wine, walking on water, rising from the dead and shooting up into heaven – well…..it just doesn’t hack it in my book! If he was anything, he’d be a Jewish radical who had a fanatical following, got under the skin of the Roman oppressors, and they crucified him to shut him up.

YAnd all these people who love to quote the bible – which one, people! It has been chopped and changed so many times by so many religions that the original tales would be lost in history.

So, has religion been absent from my life? Not by a long shot. My father was Catholic (non-practicing), and my mother was a Methodist (non-practicing). I was christened Congregational (now absorbed into the Uniting Church), though basically left to my own devices. I was never influenced to join any of the three. In 1968 I converted to Catholicism due to attending a Catholic boarding school. Even after that I still questioned the validity of much that I was instructed to believe. Mind you, conversion was very much influenced by ritual, custom, colour and movement. I encountered molestation by the Marist Brothers…not personally, though observed it going on….and eventually saw the priest who baptised me arrested for molesting his altar boys. I spent time in an enclosed monastery, and found a world of control and megalomania. This was the final straw for me.

Ever since, I have been anti-religion. Do I respect any religion and any religious leader? Yes! Buddhism and the Dalai Lama. That is it! A religion that keeps to itself, doesn’t promote or door-knock, doesn’t hate or discriminate. If you become a Buddhist you are free to mould the religion to suit your own path. That is how they should ALL be. Unfortunately the rest are nowhere near it.

So you can imagine how my hackles rose when Joi Russell sent me a friend request on Facebook recently. Being a member of the Starts At 60 group on Facebook, I checked out Joi’s profile – if I had looked harder alarm bells would have rung. Smiling face with hubby, older woman…I assumed someone from the group, so confirmed request. Wrong move! The next thing I know, the following message was received:

“My dearest Happy New Month. thanks so much for accepting my friend request and i am very sorry for intruding into your privacy. I am .Mrs Joi Russell a 53 years old Widow suffering from a long time cancer of the breast which is about claiming my life, My dear i have an important message from the Lord i tried sending you a message but it was not going through cos my facebook is acting up, so i will like you to please mail me on mrsjoirussell@—–.com so i can pass the good news of the lord to you.
Your swift response will be appreciated.
Mrs Joi Russell
mrsjoirussell@_____.com (will not include email address).”

Naturally, I also have a message for the Lord, so this was my reply to Joi:

“I thought you were someone else, but sad to hear about your cancer.

That’s funny that you have a message from the lord for me, as I have a message for him. Tell him it’s time to stop this fiasco called religion which is continuing to cause hatred and war and violent deaths in this world! You know, religion has caused more trouble and deaths than even war could manage. It has tried to force people to follow one religion, and if you thought differently, they killed you. Then we have the Crusades, and the Inquisition who revelled in torturing, then burning people alive. Then we have the wonderful missionaries who decided to force their religions on people in remote areas, thus destroying cultures that were thousands of years old. Religion burnt books, destroyed art and sculpture, killed scientists and academics who didn’t think their way. Then we have Henry VIII, who deciding to break from one religion, and make himself the head of a new one, destroyed churches and monasteries, putting monks who fed and sheltered the poor out on the street, thus making many peoples lives harder thsn they already were. We won’t even go into him chopping off the heads of his wives, and the chopping and changing between religions with following king and queen, and people being killed if they didn’t follow the religious trend decided by whoever was ruling. Then we have the Muslims charging around the world for hundreds of years killing anyone who believed differently to them. Then, of course, we have the fundamentalist and the Ku Klux Klan who hate everybody in the name of religion, and use hate speak and threats in an attempt to force their beliefs on others. Then we have immense wealth in certain churches, while all around them is poverty and misery, bishops and cardinals walking around dressed in silk, ermine, gold and precious stones. We can then throw an overwhelming amount of child abuse into the mix, and the cover-ups to try to get everyone to think it doesn’t happen. I could go on and on about the amount of hate, misery, war, destruction and death religion has caused. So my message to the lord is simple…FUCK OFF AND LEAVE US ALONE, YOU NON-EXISTENT ENTITY! ENOUGH US ENOUGH!”

That pretty well states my stand. Don’t get me wrong – I wish Joi well, and hope her remaining time is kind to her. If this delusion brings her some consolation, then she should hang onto it.

BUT – don’t ever send je religious crap and expect to escape without a caning. You will NEVER convert me. When we die, we become part of the Earth’s recycling process. That is my belief!

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Tim Alderman
Copyright 2014

Daily (or When the Mood Takes Me) Gripe: We Adore Thee O Facebook, and We Bless Thee

Fucking not! Okay, okay….I admit it! I’m a recovering 24/7 Facebook addict! It’s the pretty colours, the hilarious memes (dubious description at best), the neverending Huffington Post posts from all the realms on earth (covering everything big and small, visible and invisible!, real and fantastic, truth and exaggeration!), my friends jaunty Status Updates – well, most of the time – and photos of their dogs or the occasional video of their dogs, or posts of cute puppies…ah, the puppies! Well, that was the start of it, in my innocent, virginal early days which seems decades ago now, but in reality is about 4 years, when the most inflammatory thing I would post was photos of the spring flowers blooming around the area I lived in. Oh how my innocence flew out the window, my virginity pierced and stolen by a lust for Facebook recognition.

Through Facebook I discovered friends that had disappeared out of my life 20 years ago – actually one of Facebooks endearing qualities – mainly upon joining the Lost Gay Sydney group. Friends I had partied with, danced with in Darlinghurst’s more salubrious establishments; people who had worked for me at the notorious “Numbers” Bookstore…or been customers to our…rear ‘club’…or both; by posting on Lost Gay Melbourne I reconnected with an ex-staff member from my Pellegrini days; two ex-partners (now three); a couple of friends of friends, who I share a sick sense of humour with; a total of – and this includes the ex-partners – six people I’ve slept with; and the most recent addition an old friend from Sydney who I encountered on a sex site – take a bow now, mate. Okay, the ladies are few and far between, and need to be very broad minded, but there are a few, definitely gay-friendly and a dark sense of the ridiculous in our lives. This leads us to…

The “Like” button, which became the most important thing in my life. A cute puppy “Like”; a weird story on HP “Like”; A normal story on HP “Like”; a Status Update “Like”; a funny meme “Like”; a corny meme “Like”; a stupid meme “Like”; someones death “Like”; a friend feeling depressed “Like”; someone going into hospital for open-heart surgery “Like”; anything to do with puppies “Like”; a broken romance “Like”; Lindsay Lohan going into rehab…again “Like”; sure you get the story now, as you have been there yourself. Didn’t matter whether the post was serious, frivolous, cute, funny, life-threatening, dumb,plain stupid, happy or sad…it got a “Like”. Took me quite a while to seize upon the fact that some things just weren’t “Like”, and though the finger hovered over it, common sense thumped in and said “no, that is not a “Like” moment….which leads us to…

Ah, “Comments”. The most staggeringly frustrating part of posts, be they your own, or someone elses. Typo’s aside – and someone should write a book on some of the ones I’ve done (the most notorious, and which put a girlfriend of mine into conniptions for weeks after was “Actions speak louder than wombats” thanks to auto correct) and speaking of auto-correct…why does it try to replace FUCK with FUNK (He’s a funkwit is just plain stupid, as is funknuckle) and ARSE with ASS (which, when I was at school, was a donkey) – the “Comments” column is a vipers nest writhing with poisonous fangs. I hate it when I do a great post, and nobody comments on it. What happens then, seeing as it may have been a late night post, thus lost amongst the jungle of overnight posts, is that I “Like” it again, then “Comment” on it so that it goes back to the top of the Newsfeed. Now, I’m quite the controversial guy, and enjoy knowing that certain posts will make hackles rise or blood boil. I know now what will just get “Likes” and what will get “Likes” and “Comments”. Cute puppies usually just get likes, but post a photo or video of MY dogs and there are heaps of “Likes” and “Comments” from others who also own and post about their dogs. Hunky guys get “Likes” and “Woofs” – not to be mistaken with posts about dogs, just to confuse the issue. They also get obscene comments, much to my delight! Political rants – of which I do hundreds every week, always get “Comments” because…well…we fucking hate our government. Many think it is futile, but I don’t. It is cathartic, and releases a lot if built up steam. Items also get “Shared” by ithers, so there is, in effect, a pyramid process going on, and who knows where that may end. There are occasional arguments, but I have a hard and fast rule – if I am not totally knowledgeable about the subject, or not totally up-to-date on it, let the argument go, and don’t make an arse (ass, for any American readers) of yourself. It helps keep friendships. Which brings us to…

The “Unfriend” button. Wow, that’s a heavy dude. I have, to date, only used it once. I get light-hearted posts from a page called BareBackers. In the gay scene, barebackers are guys who have condomless sex (I am NOT going to call it unsafe when we are talking about consenting adults, and that will probably start an argument now). Anyway, I reposted a rather funny meme from them, and a friend took offense that it was from a page titled BareBackers, and despite my telling him that the page wasn’t about pornography, and that FB didn’t give two hoots about how people practiced sex, they went and reported it to FB Admin, to no avail. At first I let it go, then about an hour later, after stewing about it for that long, I took action. In the “Comments”, under his gloating ones about reporting the page, I let fly about him telling me how to run my life (mind you, he wasn’t exactly backward at being forward himself to the point of rudeness, often offensively) and how he set himself up as judge and jury about things he knew nothing about. Then I “Unfriended” him! I felt bloody good after that, I can tell you. Now this brings us to the tumultuous world of…

“Friends Requests”. Don’t you just love the obscure ones “I love you long time” and you go to their profile and they have no other friends – not even family, no photos, and no posts. You think to yourself “How the fuck did they find me!” And shrug your shoulders, for after all…this is Facebook, with all its mysteries. And the ones where you scratch your head and try to figure out where they know you from – friend or foe! The ones from obscure people in equally obscure countries who don’t even speak English. Then the ones you do befriend, who then never interact with you. Weird! I always read about friends doing culls on their “Friends” lists, but it is never my problem as I have about 90 friends, and I know why they are all there. I have to confess I don’t get the Facebookers who “collect” friends, to the extent of hundreds or even thousands. My Newsfeed often goes largely unviewed, as the number of posts I get is so full-on that I just don’t have the time. Imagine adding feeds from hundreds of “Friends” on .top of that…no thanks. No wonder one never hears anything from these “Friends”…they are just overwhelmed by posts. Which brings us to…

Pokes! Has anyone ever managed to work out just what the fuck “Pokes” are all about! I know friends who have competitions with them, seeing how many people they can “Poke” in one sitting, or how many “Pokes” exchanges they can have in one day. Fuck! I return them when I get around to it, which isn’t very often. This now leads us to…

The dreaded “Newsfeed”…the one, singularly most frustrating parts of Facebook. Has anyone actually worked out a successful way to negotiate the “Newsfeed” yet! I bloody doubt it! Posts are all over the place. There is no way to search for something you want to review, no way to group posts from one person or organisation, page or group. Comments sometimes just disappear, or are delayed. I HATE that if you are calmly and methodically working your way through the “Newsfeed” and inadvertently touch the screen…and suddenly find yourself back at the fucking top of the page. Shits me big time! Then you have to scroll back down to find where you were. This, naturally, leads us to everyone’s favourite love-to-hate-you

Facebook Admins. What fucking morons these people are! Sitting up there in some cyberspace viewing platform, picking us off like sitting pigeons for the most menial infractions of their childish thou-shalt-and-thou-shalt not rules and regulations. Kicking people off, or penalising them for being adults. Sorry FB, no one on my “Friends” list has kids that can be corrupted by any of my posts, no matter how obscene! This is how fascist they are – I posted a video of my two dogs playing with a neighbours dog a couple of weeks ago, and tagged a “Friend” in it. The next thing I knew…the video had gone, to be replaced by a message that I may not have had the copyright owners permission to post the video…my video…of my dogs! I then had to fill out a form to say the video was mine to get it reinstated. Unbelievable! Seems you can run scams, piggyback profiles, hijack profiles, rip people off left right and centre…but don’t post the wrong thing! Which finally leads us to…

Just enjoying Facebook for what it is. Don’t try to analyse it. Don’t take it too seriously. Yes, there are a lot more important things in life, but we all need a break and a bit of fun in our day.

So, how did I cure my addiction? I didn’t! The novelty ran out eventually, which cut it back substantially. I enjoy it over breakfast, or a cup of coffee. And that is just as it should be…maybe. And don’t forget…

The Facebook Mental Asylum is only a post away.

Lol

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Tim Alderman
Copyright May 2014

Sheer Thrills

This short story (750 words WTF) was entered in last years GLBTQ Short Story Competition. I didn’t win anything, nor did I expect to. I am not really a story writer, but entered purely for the discipline of constraining my writing – usually 2,500-odd word articles and opinion pieces – to such a small word count. Needless to say, I did about 20 edits to get it right. I liked the end result, and was rather pleased with myself, even if the judges weren’t. The words “After the summer” had to be used somewhere in the story.

After the summer of suntans, surf and sand, it’s time to pack my “aussieBum” swimmers away for a few months. My hot, sexy “aussieBums” – called “Loose” because…well…they’re loose and let it all…hang out. Silky white nylon with black and grey side inserts. Double panel at the front… okay, nobody warned me that they became transparent when wet. Very transparent!

I guess it wouldn’t have taken much imagination on my part to assume that silky white flowing nylon, even with a double modesty panel, would be see-through when wet. Either I lack said imagination, or I’m a secret exhibitionist! Or maybe I should have listened to my friends, who without elaboration told me that it was very daring to wear them to the beach. I guess I also misinterpreted daring.

So here’s the scene. Beautiful, warm, late summer day. The cool blue waters – relatively calm for a change – at Tamarama beach. Me swimming – okay, thrashing about – in the crystal clear surf, ducking and weaving through waves and around legs. Standing up in waist deep water, feeling refreshed and invigorated, I headed for the beach.

It took me a minute to realise that everybody was staring at me as I walked from the surf and up the beach towards my towel. Was that a wolf whistle? Following the line-of-view of those closest to me, I glanced down. OMG whose cock was that! For a second, I was taken aback! Taking a second look down, I was confronted by the sight of my fully exposed, wet-nylon-clad cock and balls parading themselves for all to see. Aiding the spectacle, the long nylon cords, left dangling outside the briefs, spread themselves over each side of the shaft, framing it in a way that any porn mag would have been proud of, leading the eye down to my balls. The final hard-core porn moment involved gravity and the weight of dripping water, which was pulling the waist down just low enough to expose a tradie arse-crack at the rear, and a hint of my pride and joys – copper red pubes at the front!

Hands flapped! I mean what do you do with your fucking hands under these circumstances? Clutch them over my privates and pretend nothing was happening? A bit melodramatic and prudish, even for me! Put them on my hips and flaunt it? A quick hip gyration? Oh, that is just sick! Do a bit of I’m-a-little-teapot? I settled for the big girly quean swish, then flounced my way towards my towel. Nothing like flaunting the obvious! I noted a few sly smiles amongst the observers; others wanting to look but trying to be discreet about it; some tongue-tip poking and lip-licking; the sudden deafening roar of a thousand whispers…pssst pssst, titter titter! And yes, that was a wolf whistle! From my peer group I sort of found it flattering; however from the group of older guys en-route it was a bit creepy.

Yet, despite the mix of glances, the snickers and my total embarrassment at being so totally exposed, I found it all quite…erotic and exciting! A public display of not just cock – but my cock! I don’t need to remind you that these swim briefs are not discreet at the best of times, so getting an erection in them is putting on quite a show for everyone, especially when wet. It started erecting about half way back to my towel – was that another wolf whistle? – and by the time I reached it and threw myself on my stomach, it was in full, manly bloom. The looks I got from the older brigade at that stage were nothing short of drooling lasciviousness. Any hope of retaining dignity was out the window at the speed of light. Lying on my stomach, I suddenly realised that now my butt – pert, so I had been told – was on full display through wet moulded nylon for all to gaze upon – jealously, I hoped. The older brigade would be having conniptions by now! That image killed it. if my pert butt was to be gazed upon, it had to be by pert-butt-looking young men, not overweight perverts! Jumping up, I gathered the remains of my dignity, pulled my shorts on, grabbed my bag and towel, and to the sound of heartfelt applause – fled!
But there always has to be one last comment doesn’t there, and it had to come from the wizened ancients. “Nice arse, sweetie!”, folliwed by – you guessed it – a wolf whistle.

The next summer, they went public under a pair of boardshorts.

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Tim Alderman
Copyright 2013