Posts from October 2021

oh my gourd

October 29, 2021

When my Mum was visiting from London, she and Iole made gemista. Traditionally, gemista are filled with ground meat, rice, and herbs but they made a variety to suit everyone’s likes and dislikes. We had our pick of tomatoes, bell peppers and zucchini. Today I found an Autumn spin on this classic Greek recipe that I thought I’d share. Instead of tomatoes and bell peppers, this recipe calls for gourds; Kabocha squash, Golden Nugget Squash, Tiger Stripe Pumpkin, any one will do. Just make sure they’re the edible kind.


October 29, 2021

As kids, our costumes were never shop bought. Halloween was a cobbled together affair with ghosts fashioned from old sheets and bin liners doubling as bat wings. My mum turned the kitchen into a witch’s grotto complete with pumpkins, candles, and fairy lights while all the kids piled in with sheets on their heads to bob for apples. It was all so messy and fun and makeshift; nothing like the elaborate decor and costumes you see in shops and houses today. Last week, Jason went to four different Sprit of Halloween stores to find a blue M&M costume. Red, yellow and pink would not do. So this year, I’m determined not to spend another penny on plastic rats and purple cobwebs. I’m throwing a ‘bloody’ sheet over the boxwoods and calling it a day.

and the bead goes on

October 27, 2021

“When I was three years old at Montessori school, I lost a beaded coin purse,” says Camille Laddawan when asked what inspired her love of bead artistry. “It was tiny, could fit inside my palm, and it was coloured yellow with pink and green flowers — perfect for putting seeds, a marble, or a spare lolly in. I loved it and its magical feel.” Years later, this Melbourne-based artist creates beautiful, patterned tapestries woven from glass beads, paper ephemera and coloured thread. “To create her compositions, Camille translates chosen words and phrases into Tone Code, a visual alphabet she has devised, inspired by Morse Code,” reads her bio. “This visual code allows her to conceal deeply personal messages within an aesthetic language that also adds new layers of emotion and expression that can be unpacked and discerned by the viewer.”

around and around

October 26, 2021

Daniel Anselmi’s paper paintings.

Corey Moranis’ juicy lucite jewels.

A plant filled kitchen.

Pippin Drysdale colourful porcelain vessels.

Just in case you think ladybugs all look the same.

And cats waiting for a fish in Malta.


October 25, 2021

I lived in Florence for seven months, and almost all my memories centre around food. The fresh-out-of-the oven brioche that we’d devour on our way home from the nightclubs, the pastas we’d cook in my tiny, attic apartment, the charred zucchini, mushrooms and smoky eggplant at Enrico’s café around the corner from school, the Linguine al Limone at Harry’s Bar. One of my first meals in Florence was a Ribollita served piping hot at a trattoria in the cellar of a palazzo near the Arno. This recipe, with barlotti beans and cavolo nero, whisked me back. It was Winter when I moved there and Ribollita is the perfect Winter meal. Stale bread, beans, greens –– it’s all so hearty and comforting.

sink in

October 22, 2021

People who know me know that I take sinks quite seriously. We have a marble one in our kitchen that’s large enough to wash a Guinea Hog in. This one below, in a farmhouse designed by Amber Lewis, is pretty stunning. I love that it’s shallow, and that the rough texture works so well against the lustre of brass taps. This is a laundry room. Pairing up socks just got a whole lot less choresome.

bone dry

October 21, 2021

Clay goes through so many stages before it reaches its final destination of mug, bowl or vase. My favourite stage is the greenware stage, specifically when the clay is bone dry and ready to be fired. It’s here that I am full of hope and possibility. The kiln hasn’t had its wicked way yet. No cracking, blistering or warping. I can see the finished piece exactly as I want it to look. It’s rare that I ever look at a finished piece with the same satisfaction that I do in that early stage. I often photograph my pieces just before they enter the kiln as a marker of what could have been, and what could still be, if I keep at it.


October 20, 2021

I tried my first oyster on a trip to Halifax in the late 90s. Jason and I were on an East Coast road trip and Halifax was our first stop. “He was a bold man that first ate an oyster,” wrote Jonathan Swift. Like most people eating oysters for the first time, I felt self conscious. Oyster etiquette; how do I respond when asked if I like my oysters briny, buttery or sweet? Do I slurp or do I bite? Do I use a fork? We opted for salty, and we slurped. I can’t say that I loved them, or that I’ve ordered oysters much since. But when I do see them on a menu, I think of two wide-eyed twenty-something-year-olds slurping oysters on the water. “So have you heard about the oyster who went to a disco and pulled a mussel?” That’s the brilliant Billy Connolly. And this here is a Fine de Claire oyster, cultured on the French Atlantic coast. It’s beautiful and ugly, all at once.

around and around

October 19, 2021

A beautiful stone facade in Zaria, one of the oldest Hausa cities in the Northern Nigeria.

Wayne Thiebaud’s cakes.

Matilda Goad’s fabulous kitchen.

Brenda Holzke’s fantastic black and white forms.

A small, uninhabited island (Lítla Dímun) in the Faroe Islands, often covered by a cloud of its own.

raise the roof

October 18, 2021

Let’s all paint our ceilings like Casa Taberelli‘s. Ensconced in the tiny northern vineyard village of Cornaiano is architect, Carlo Scarpa’s great masterpiece. The ceilings look like Rothkos. Oh, to have the chutzpah to bring a mustard brush to one’s ceiling. It’s daring, it’s original, and I love it.

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