Firstly, I must apologise for my absence. Here it is, finally…
There is a lot to be said for food and wine matching. Slightly less to be said for the stonkingly bad hangovers they induce. After a week of trying, we finally got our hands on the pig. We minced it, we sliced it, we diced it, we pan-fried it, we boiled it, we blanched it, we roasted it and then many hours later, we finally ate it. By this time, my small and ill-equipped kitchen looked like a rhinoceros had run wild through the encyclopaedia of ingredients we had been teasing and coercing into desirable dishes.
Having not even recovered from last weeks Marronthon (like a marathon with crustaceans), I was filled with deep joy when I learnt it was my turn to peel the Marron…again. I think my use of the word peel is somewhat misguided; undressing a Marron is more like prising off steel-like sections from the world’s biggest and spikiest prawn. My thumbs are still determinedly trying to rid themselves of the splinters left by the first marronthon, three weeks ago. This time, I showed those Marron who was boss, whilst lightly peppering the experience with the occasional ‘motherf###er’! C and I discussed whether I was allowed to yell expletives in the competition and we concluded that if they are in French then that should be fine.
And so, four or five hours later, we had finally decided on our three courses, sort of. We have the structure of the dishes in place and we are going to allow the produce on hand to guide our choices on the day. Food has been tasted, wine has been drunk and chef’s jackets were finally picked up from the embroiderer. One more sleep and we’re leaving, on a jet plane.
I will be posting updates every day throughout the comp so keep reading; if you’re lucky I might even blog via my mobile from the awards ceremony on Saturday night! Adelaide, here we come.