From Aussie, with love.

Tis been a while, maties...but I am back and coming to you from a place where the beer flows like wine, where venomous creatures abound and where life is just great. And for the record, yes, I have had a few beers, yes, I have encountered at least one venomous animal (brown snake to be exact), and life really is great down unda. More updates to come soon, but I just wanted to check in for now. xx

Land is good...real good.

Just a tid bit ago, we watched our home/workplace/nemesis, of the last 6 months....float away back to Florida on a big yacht transport ship.  Ah, the wonders of maritime engineering.  

Therefore, yes, you guessed it..., these postings of mine shall no longer be titled, 'notes from afloat'.  I will continue the notes, yes indeedy, but they will be coming to you from a much more stable place.  A place where personal thoughts abound, where beds are wider than 2 feet, where the weather report has no direct effect on the potential churning of stomachs, where simple pleasures like walking in a patch of grass are never taken for granted....i'm talking about a little place called land.   

I have been here for a couple of weeks now, and I plan to stay.  One more week of Italian land and then it's off to test out the greener pastures of the County Berkshire...England that is....sheep-hearding, Stilton-making, Berkshire pork producing, cider-drinking paradisio.  And although I would honestly have nothing against spending a month eating blue cheese, sipping tea, wearing wool sweaters, exclaiming "poppycock," and roaming the lands in knee high boots and burrets in search of wild foul (although my boyfriend may just be doing that)....

I come in search of culinary knowledge.  Learn me, Mr. Blumenthal.  The opportunity I have been given is to cook and learn in the kitchen of one of the greats, a master of his craft.  Why would they take me in?  Not sure.  But if you are wondering what mischief I will be getting into starting on September 29th...think culinary shammy: the absorber.  Boat term.  Full circle, folks.  

It's a marvelous night for a moon-swim...

Inga and I have a little routine now...after the gym, we sweatily strut back towards our boat, which we bypass and take to an adjacent seaside path which brings us to what i like to call..."the crown jewel of Monaco." Although some may not agree, amidst the Casinos, the designer stores and the illustrious palace of Monte Carlo, there lies a hidden beach. Merely a little gem of natural formation, a smooth-rock infested, cliff surrounded "a la plage", if you will. Perhaps it is due to the influx of fresh water and it's outlying, non-stagnant water dwelling location, but the water is clear, I mean, gin clear. And it laps upon the shore of this jewel, where we spend time diving down to hang with the fishies, minor spelunking around the surrounding rock formations, arms behind the head lounging moments looking up at the sky with tunes in our ears, and the best so far...swims in the late dusk with the moon on the water. And yes, I did start singing "Moooon Riveeeeeerrrrr" the other night whilst partaking in this activity (to myself, of course). And did I mention, it's only a 4 minute walk from the boat. Lucky girlies we are...true story.

And away we go...

Finally set sail from the great safe harbor of San Remo, Italy, a coupla weeks ago.  And in retrospect, our time there was nothing less than fantastic.  

 As we take to the deep blue, I will be dreaming of bike rides at dusk along the sea-side path, cappuccinos in the swingy chair at the Anchor Bar in the port, morning runs and saying bonjourno to the cute oldies walking by, after-work swims at the rocky beach, Tuesday night barbies with the crew in port, Marina-side guitar jam sessions with the crew of Sarita Si ;-), vino and pizza at the G-Lounge, late night (early morning) dancing at Morganas, "girls" pizza night at Quatro Amichi, many good times at the Mushroom Restaurant, the incredible produce of the Mercato,  late-afternoon crew lunches in the Medieval village of Bussana Vecchia, our aft deck Chumbawumba dance party, moonlit music sessions on the sea wall, etc.... and lest we not forget, what made the experience so unforgettable...the people.  Proving, once again, that life is, in fact, all about the people.

  More posts to come soon....lots of inspiration, love and heaps of funny shite to report on....wait for it.... 

   

Ciao, San Remo.  

Completely, whole-heartedly, seriously....inspired.

  One of the greatest aspects of this job (and perhaps what has kept me coming back for more), is the people I have met along the way.  Fellow swashbucklers from all walks of life, with skills ranging from underwater welding, bilge scrubbing, expert iron-creasemaking, diesel engine reconstructing, stain removing, big ass boat driving, white glove table service, and alas, my fellow cheffies.  Many have I met this year over in Europe, and I have been humbled by their knowledge, acquired skills and above all, their willingness to share.  

 Which brings me to my new cheffie friend who let me borrow the Big Fat Duck Cookbook, even before he could get his fingers flying through the pages, he insisted that I spend some time with it...(maybe because I was drueling when he mentioned it was on order, hmmmm).

  This book speaks to me, like nothing else I have EVER read.  I can only imagine a similar contentment achieved by young protogees of a master such as Mozart or Beethoven....as those perfectly constructed melodies flowed into their ears for the first time, leaving that one word internally screams throughout the soul, "YES!!!!!!!!!!!!"  He gets it.  This is what it is all about.  Passionate, questioning, inventive, reasonable, unreasonable, crazy, beautiful, sensory-encompassing, etc, etc.  

  For that reason, I have to stop blogging now and get back to reading.  I miss it already.  However, in the midst of inspiration, I came across a very fitting quotation by a girl my age, who completed a stage at the Fat Duck (tempting)..... 

I think one of the greatest things a chef can do is let those around influence you. Otherwise your kitchen becomes a vaccuum and your cuisine grows stale. Look, listen, taste, sponge up and experience as much as you can. Know the names, know what they do, look at their food. You begin your career like that, at no point should you fix and lock up. 

Early mornin jaunts.

Newfound revelation:  early morning workouts are the way forward.  Here is why: you are not awake enough to over think it.  The hardest part is getting yourself out of bed, but the promise of good music on the headphones and the rising of the sun, are some pretty good motivators.  

  I've been running the same path for a few weeks now (only in the early morn) and its quite an amazing little route....a reconstructed train path, that runs the coastline where San Remo meets the Mediterranean.  Not too shabby.  Is that the reason I am able to motivate?  Hmmmm....  

Es un bella journata....

  Bella Journata is my new favorite Italian phrase (one of few that I actually remember), and it basically means, "damn, its a freaking beautiful day"....or something along those lines.  

  And yes, you guessed it, today is for sure a Bella Journata.  Though some folks here in San Remo would surely disagree, the rain is falling outside and it's great.  The galley has been active this morning with yours truly feeling a sensation of the rainy day spent with grandma...in which she, well, bakes.  And so I did.  

  Fresh banana bread came out of the oven right before our 10 am tea break.  (Tea breaks are a new found tradition on our boat, due to the addition of our Scottish 1st mate) and everyone is over the moon for them.  For the record, tea breaks unofficially happen around 10am, following lunch and 3pm.  I recommend that you incorporate tea breaks into life....they are little 15 minute gems of relaxation in our crazy lives.  

  So anywhoo, back to the baking grandma.  As the rain continued to fall outside and the boat was filled with essence of banana bread, I stirred up some flour, olive oil, sugar, salt and yeast and made some fresh pitas.  These were filled with fresh chickpea falafel, cukes, tomatoes, green onions and yogurt sauce, served with Tabbouleh and fresh greens.  Twas a winner.  

  Fresh pitas are really so exciting to make.  Creating a pseudo hot stone in the oven is easy, just flip over a baking sheet and set in the hot oven for about 20 mins.  Then lay the unbaked pitas onto them, and they puff up in a matter of minutes.  This process creates the lovely little air pocket which can be filled with whatever tempts your tastebuds at that moment.  For severe authenticity, drizzle the baked beauties with some good olive oil and a sprinkle of Zataar spices.  It will transplant your tastebuds to Marrakesh, for real yall.

  Whaddya know, its time for another tea break.  Important business to tend to.