relationDips: unpalatable and indigestible

Informally, we might use the word 'yuk' to describe such food which we don't like. We don't though. 'yuk' or 'yukky' tend to be used by children as adults have developed more sophisticated ways of saying they don't like or even can't eat certain foods. Imagine a five year old, sitting at the dining table, staring at a few florets of broccoli, saying, 'Mother, I'm afraid I find these particular vegetables unpalatable and indigestible.'

                                                                    photo source

I think some foods are yuk. Some of the dishes presented to me by my wife aren't appealing at all. Okra for example, is a vegetable I have tried to acquire a taste for but I can't get past the slimy texture. Certain other Asian greens taste okay but require exhaustive chewing to get value from them, and even then there is indigestible refuse to eject. I have a thing about having to put my fingers in my mouth while I'm eating, or having to spit things out. Nothing destroys my enjoyment of a meal like a fish bone jamming itself in my gum. I used to not eat cherries because I wanted fruit to put in my mouth, chew and swallow. I didn't want to have to negotiate a stone, then spit it out once I'd stripped the sweet flesh which surrounds it.

Eating shouldn't be hard work. There's usually enough hard work in the preparation, and the after meal cleaning. For me, eating is the part of the process which is enjoyable, or should be. Even if the food isn't great which is usually the case when I cook, the sitting down and eating should provide sensorial pleasure, and it should be relaxing. I don't enjoy cooking or cleaning, although I do find a certain satisfaction in those tasks. Eating is what I like.

There is something I like more than eating, from which I derive greater satisfaction, but even then not all elements of the procedure are equally enjoyable or rewarding. I love writing, but I don't love trying to find publishers or marketing. I love writing this blog. I've been doing it for 12 years, but thanks to Blogger's decision to change its interface, I'm no longer happy with the process. The writing is great. Adding photos and publishing? Not so great any more. I can write a short story of around 2000 words in a couple of hours. I'll usually spend an hour or so editing it, but then I can spend another hour or more sometimes trying to find a market for the story. After submitting it, I'll have to wait (sometimes forever), for a yes or no. If it's a no, I'll find another publisher and send it again. That isn't fun, but it's a part of the process. I wrote the first draft of my memoir in about six months. It's taken another twelve months after that to get it ready for publication and I can't tell you how many hours I've spent on various marketing endeavours. It will be available from November 22. You can visit the page here. 

There are elements of eating and writing which I don't enjoy, on both the consumption and production side. I don't stop eating after I've had a bad meal (unless it was so bad it made me sick and I couldn't eat for a while). Neither do I stop cooking just because I don't like it, can't be bothered, or I've cooked something inedible. (Ask my children about my lemon chicken.) I don't stop writing because my work doesn't sell well, or because I get a long list of rejections; or even because, again, it's too hard or I don't feel like it. I've read some rubbish books but that's never stopped me reading, and I continue to read experimentally, checking our different genres and authors.

None of these negatives put me off doing things I love doing because in my mind it's worth a bit of pain of discomfort to achieve pleasure and satisfaction. Most people have this attitude to things they care about it, and relationships are no different.

If your expectations meter is set to realistic, you know life isn't all strawberries and butterflies. You understand that weeds grow in your garden faster than roses and that if you don't get rid of the weeds and look after your roses, your garden will be 'unpalatable and indigestible.'

Whatever metaphor you want to use, the point is that good relationships require hard work, and if you're going to do your part, you'll need to push through the unpleasant parts while still giving them your best efforts. If I want to cook a horrible meal, I can avoid fresh ingredients and ignore the recipe. If I don't want anyone to read my work, I won't waste time refining and polishing the manuscript, then trying to marketing it. If I want an unhealthy relationship with my wife, I can easily achieve that by giving up. I can pick out all the unpleasant or unacceptable parts of the marriage and focus on them, using them as excuses for not working hard to make my marriage successful. The 'too hard basket' is always an option for those who lack courage.

The thing is, I want to eat healthy, tasty meals, I want to read inspiring, fascinating books, and I want to write books and stories which move people.  All of this requires effort on my part and it won't always be fun. And more than any of that, I want the best marriage I can possibly have. Loving my wife means I need to make an effort. My relationship with her is more important than food or books. She's not food which I can spit out or throw away. She's not a book I can put back on the shelf, then choose another. She's a person who needs me to love her unconditionally and consistently, to respect her, and to make her feel safe.

Perhaps if people took their relationships as seriously as they did their jobs, hobbies, and other passions, we'd have less broken relationships.

relationDips: triple cheese spicy vegorama

With apologies to Dominos, whose pizzas I enjoy periodically, I present the histories of vegetarianism, pizza and vegetarian pizzas. I will then explain how all three are intricately connected with, and reflected in, our relationships.

It seems the earliest record of vegetarianism, which is the choice to not eat meat, is in the writings of ancient India. Unless you read another article which says it was Pythagoras, the great Greek mathematician; he of the famous theorem we all studied in high school. It does seem clear though from the Biblical record that Adam and Eve were vegetarians. Next level vegetarianism is veganism, under which philosophy, practitioners do not eat or use animal products.  The term veganism is a 20th century construct, but this extreme form of vegetarianism, appears to have originated around the same time, in the same cultures. 

Of course in Western societies, with their focus on the individual, vegetarianism has mostly been a choice; either a health choice or an ethical choice, or both. In eastern cultures, so bound with the religious beliefs of Hinduism and its offspring, Buddhism, and very much collectivist societies, such choices have not been, and are still not available.

Pizza was also born in ancient times, although the first use of the word only dates back to first century Gaeta, now contained in the modern nation state of Italy. While ancient Egyptians, Romans and Greeks ate various flatbreads with toppings, the pizza, as we know it today is said to have been created in Naples, in the late 18th century. 

You can travel to almost any country in the world and find some version of pizza, including vegetarian pizzas like one of my favourites, that I mentioned in the title of this post. However, it is only recently, over the last 10-15 years, that major western pizza chains like Pizza Hut and Dominos have begun offering vegetarian pizzas.

Also dating back to ancient, even pre-historic times, are relationships, and it is here that I wish to sharpen the reader's focus.

The issue of eating animal products, or not, can be an issue in relationships, but it generally isn't. Of all the problems and disagreements a couple will face, food has rarely directly caused a relationship breakdown. Eating maybe, but not food itself.

Perhaps because it is so vital, the question of what is eaten by who and where and when, seems to be an aspect of relationships in which compromise is relatively easy. As part of her Catholic practice, my wife chooses not to eat meat on Fridays. Although this prohibition is not a part of my religious practice, it has been an easy thing for me to simply not eat meat on Fridays. It's a simple way for me to demonstrate respect for her. She doesn't eat chicken because she doesn't like it, but she cooks it for the rest of the family, because we do.

If vegetarianism was a big deal for a particular person, it would certainly come up in the early stages of a relationship, and be dealt with. Post marriage or post relationship commencement vegetarianism might present more of a challenge, but as I said, it is highly unlikely to destroy the relationship.

What can we learn from all this? Pizza is good, choice is good, and compromise is not only good, but is also an indispensable ingredient for healthy relationships. Meat, on the other hand, is not an indispensable ingredient for a great tasting pizza.

RelationDips: peanut butter and jelly

On a recent edition of the hugely successfully, internationally syndicated radio show, Over the Fence with Trev and Dave,  I had to fly solo, so I chose to honour my missing radio partner by examining lists of top male duos.

To my surprise, or perhaps complete bewilderment would be a more accurate term, two food duos appeared in the first list I found. Whilst, I can't dispute that peanut butter and jelly (what we call 'jam' in Australia), and burger and fries are excellent food pairings, I was perplexed as to how they made it on to a list of male duos. I'm pretty sure food is asexual, or gender neutral or whatever. Clearly food is even more important than male duos.

The inexplicable listing of peanut butter and jelly, and burger and fries on a  list of top male duos, did, however, get me thinking about food combinations and relationships. There's a sweet and savoury thing going on with many food pairings. There's a sense of complementary tastes and sometimes textures which make these combinations work for some people. I must emphasize some people, because not every thinks cheese and Vegemite is a good match up...for example. In fact, this might not be anywhere near as delicious or as popular as Vegemite and cheese fans make out.

People often say they don't like certain foods or particular combinations of foods. Excluding people who have not even tried the thing they say they don't like, people who say they don't like certain foods often have a hard time saying why. They might use terms like it's too sweet, which makes sense if the person is not a sweet eater, but is baffling if they are. I do this. When offered a Vietnamese style sweet, lovingly prepared by my wife, I rejected it on the basis the taste was too sweet. (I did have an issue with the texture as well, but that wasn't the main issue.) I love sweets, yet I rejected the sweet my wife made because it was too sweet.

Time to get to the bottom of the margarine tub. What am I talking about here?

1. Saying you don't like food you haven't tried, is the same as judging a book by its cover. In other words, we avoid getting to know some people based on very superficial opinions which may be quite misleading. Relationships of value are deep wells, not footpath puddles.
2. Saying we don't like a food because it is too sweet, too sour, too salty or whatever when we generally love that kind of food reflects the conflictedness** of our inner natures, which in turn we carry into relationships, with predictable results. Relationships of value recognize, accept and deal with conflict in the kitchen and on the dining table.
3. Saying a particular food combination is wrong because we think it's a horrible, unnatural confluence of foods is like saying people who aren't alike, shouldn't be together. Or worse, people who don't look right together, don't belong together. Relationships of value are always, in some significant sense, complementary.

Most people not only need food, but love it. Likewise, relationships provide sustenance for our souls, and a huge amount of pleasure when they are healthy. Whether other people can see it or not, there is only one valid question about the relationship, irrespective of what it looks like (or tastes like -that sounds a bit odd). Does this relationship bring out the best in both people? To put it another way, is this relationship a blessing to those in it and those around it?

How would you describe your most significant relationships in food terms? Peanut butter and jelly? Beer and prawns? Ice cream and hot apple pie? Please don't say Vegemite and cheese.

*Over the Fence with Trev and Dave is on Darwin's 97.7FM, Monday nights from 7-9pm.

**conflictedness is not a word according to the spellchecker, but I dispute that.

relationDips: the eternal pantry

Food is purchased from the supermarket, brought home and stored in the fridge and the pantry. At the appropriate time that food is consumed, and will need to be replaced, if it's a staple or something you like, or substituted if it is not.

A pantry is a food cupboard, but we have other types of cupboards and storage spaces around our homes where we put things until we want to use them. We collect these things through various means, mostly our own purchases, supplemented by the presents of others. The purpose of these things is to add value to our lives, either aesthetically or practically. Essentially, because quality of life is primarily and directly connected to the quality of our relationships, these things are servants, slaves to a greater cause.

There are of course other investments we make into our relationships like time, and the greatest of all gifts; ourselves.
Just as food supplies what our bodies need, there are certain types of essential food for relationships. Love, in all its many splendid forms, care, consideration, courtesy, passion and sacrifice, is an obvious one. Love is infinite because it comes from an inexhaustible source. It's very much like the endless pack of Tim Tams where by some magical power you can keep on going to the pantry and getting more love. 

It's the same deal with patience and kindness. It even works with gratitude and passion. These priceless commodities emanate from the source of all good things: God. God is our eternal pantry, the tireless supplier of those precious things we need to keep our relationships healthy. The bottomless well of relational nutrients.

The COVID-19 pandemic has exposed many of us to empty supermarkets shelves for the first time in our lives. Our pantries are perhaps also less well stocked. These shortages have allowed the weeds of fear and anxiety to prosper as our life sustaining ability to interact with others has been curtailed and much of the fun taken out of our social lives. Whether this hurts or helps our relationships depends on us.

Many are finding pathways through the darkness because of the eternal light which illuminates the road ahead. Faith, hope and love are also flourishing as we hold on to them, and for some of us, as we hold on to their ultimate source. God promises to supply all of our needs. He never breaks his promises, which is another thing we should learn and apply to our relationships. To have happy and healthy relationships we need more of what God has to offer, and it's as easy as entering the pantry or opening a cupboard and taking it off the shelf.

RelationDips: octopus balls

Every second Thursday, my friends and I get together for dinner. We call it Connect and Chill. On the alternate Thursdays, we meet to study the bible and to pray. These nights are called Connect and Grow. Chill nights are held in various locations around Darwin; a different restaurant or pub each time. The suburb of Parap was chosen on the most recent occasion, but it was  a toss up between Parap Tavern and Oka Japanese. We took a vote which ended up a tie.

Parap Tavern on Thursday nights has a special: two chicken parmigianas and a jug of beer for $30, but it's not special food. It's pub food. Whichever pub we go to, the menu is pretty much the same. You can get a steak, a parmy, a burger, or barramundi (fish). All of which come with salad and chips (thick cut french fries).The menu varies little, and neither does the quality. It's ordinary food. Safe food, Good food.

The first time I went to Oka for dinner, I saw octopus balls on the menu and knew I had to try them. They could have been testicles or just ball shaped pieces of octopus for all I knew. Either way, I had to try them because I love octopus, and every time I pick up a menu, I look for something I haven't eaten before. Japanese restaurants have standard menus too. Sure, they're more exotic than pub menus but Japanese cuisine is not new to Australia. A set of standard dishes, like chicken teriyaki, will be offered to mostly non Japanese customers.

Not everyone likes Japanese food. Others don't particularly like the uninspiring offerings of hotels like Parap Tavern. The thing is, going out to dinner is never about the food. Not for me anyway. The food I eat is only a side dish accompanying the people I'm eating it with. For that reason I never say no to any restaurant suggestion. I expect to find something I can eat, and probably enjoy-maybe even my next favourite meal, but even if I can't, I didn't go for the food, so I'm never disappointed.

Food and eating brings us together. Most cultures do this exceptionally well. Gathering together with family and friends to enjoy a meal. My wife finds the idea of a pot luck dinner weird, but she comes from a culture in which if you ask someone out to a meal, you are expected to pay. The person you ask can invite someone else along and you will be expected to pay for them too. The concept of ordering individual dishes is also strange to her, as it is to people from many other countries.

Australian's have learned how to share when we eat at Asian restaurants. We've learned to appreciate the finest flavours from across the globe. It is an indisputable benefit of the controversial multiculturalism doctrine that our palettes have been broadened. In culinary terms, our lives have been enriched, but for me, it is still not about the food; it's about the people.

Food should add value to our relationships, regardless of similarities or differences in our tastes and appetites. Food is not just fuel for our bodies, it is lubricant for families, friends and society on the whole. 

Oka lost the vote last time, but we are going to eat there next time. Mark the date: November 14, and join me for some octopus balls. Don't worry about what they are. Just try them, and let's enjoy the experience together. Remember, it's not all about the food.

relationDips: condiments

Using the broadest definition of the word, a condiment is a substance, sauce or herb, (I'm going to include spreads as well) added to food to enhance its flavour. There is an unbelievable number of different condiments available. Take a look in your pantry and your fridge and you'll probably find numerous examples...you may also want to check the use by dates on them while you're there.

There are really obvious and popular examples like salt and pepper, tomato sauce, mayonnaise and peanut butter. There are also less well known condiments such as caramelized balsamic vinegar, sesame spread, sambal oeleck and mango, lime and chili dressing.

The knowledge and or use of these various condiments depends on individual taste and culinary daring. I tend to steer away from the exotic ones and purposefully avoid such unpleasantries as Vegemite and worcestershire sauce. But each to their own right?

Most people add something to their food to improve the flavour because they want good taste: an enjoyable food experience, not just another boring meal. Usually, it's not the case that the food is bad, but more that it is better with a condiment: more exciting even.

His mates were thrilled when he announced that he was getting married. There was an explosion of handshaking and backslapping as he made the announcement over a round of beer at the local pub. They offered hearty congratulations and well wishes to him, except for one of his friends who asked, with zero tact, why the hell he would do that. Why would he tie himself to one woman for the rest of his life?

The mood at the table soured immediately as the man's joy was challenged by this one dissenting voice. The man sipped his beer, gathering his thoughts, before he replied to his friend's question, "Because women are not condiments."

Disgruntled, the friend who loved women in the same way he loved food, walked away. The celebrations resumed in the wake of his departure.

relationDips: Vietnam part 2

My experience of Vietnamese people, both in Australia and in Vietnam, is that they are extraordinarily hospitable. As it is across Asia, it's all about the food. There's always a fine selection of food when you sit to eat at someone's home. Pho (beef noodle soup) may be a quintessential Vietnamese food, but we only had it outside of the home, in any number of ubiquitous little restaurants. Home meals, family meals, comprise a table full of plates and bowls filled with salads, meats, sauces and noodles. 

It's wonderful to look at, and participate in, such a amazing spread, even if many of the food items are unidentifiable, and some even unpleasant looking. Exotic? Nailed it.

One night, at the home of my father-in-law, I had another one of these great meals, and finished it well satisfied. I was relaxing with a cigarette after dinner when I was summoned next door to my new uncle's home...for dinner. I groaned a little inwardly.

I joined my father and law and uncle, and a hard rock loving friend of my uncle's whom I had met earlier that day. I joined them on the floor where another no less impressive array of food lay awaiting our enjoyment. Also, on this "table" was a large bottle of home made whiskey which was mounted on a little stand so as to make pouring easy.

And so began more culinary exploration, interspersed with drinking whiskey from small glasses ( a little larger than a shot glass). Before we drank we toasted, each time. Evidently if you take a sip, you must invite everyone else to drink with you. When we had finished eating, and of course I only picked at the food because I was not hungry at all, I stood to go outside for a smoke. My father in law insisted I stay, and so we smoked together on the floor of my uncle's living room, then stubbed out our butts in the food scraps.

Following the meal, we began to watch music videos and the aformentioned hard rock loving friend of my uncle and I worked our way through a fine collection of hair metal bands, mostly Bon Jovi. There was, quite naturally, singing and air guitars. Communication was very limited due to the language barrier, but we connected.


I don't drink whiskey. I never smoke inside. I prefer to sit at a table to eat, and I only ever have dinner once a night. Nevertheless, I had a really great time. When in Rome...right?

What is the appeal of this kind of activity? I think it's about building relationships. My wife was somewhat disproving of my involvement, but that was mainly due to the cigarettes. I was with her father and some other men in a family home. It was safe place, and I guess we were bonding. I wondered about the things we do to fit in, to gain acceptance, to not cause offence to others, to simply satisfy curiousity.

I've had some unsafe experiences in my life when my motives for involvement were far less pure than on this occasion, where my desire was simply to bond with the man whose daughter is now my wife. I've rarely encountered a better example of the intrinsic connection between food and relationships.

relationDips 2: meat and three veggies

I grew up in the 70s and 80s on meat and three veggies for dinner. I ate a sandwich for lunch pretty much every day, and some variety of sugary cereal for breakfast. Spaghetti bolognese was as exotic as it got. Mum was a good cook and we ate well, but variety was invarious or perhaps unvarious or even disvarious. My life in general, like my food was uniform. It was simple.

Those of you who have been around for any number of years, operating in the adult world, know that eventually things get complicated. The first real complication for me was my parent's separation which occurred at the same time that the hormonal cyclone known as puberty hit me. I then had to start high school in new suburb without knowing a single person. I lived with my grandparents during the first six months or so of that tumultuous 13th year of my life.

Food remained a constant amidst the emotional upheaval. Nana was a good cook and I continued to enjoy hearty meat and three veggie meals. My interest in girls blossomed concurrently with the blooming of their feminine bodies, and developed naturally into a plethora of infatuations and obsessions, but I never saw food as anything other than sustenance. Sure it was enjoyable, but I never thought about the incredible variety of food that I was missing out on, simply because I wasn't curious about exotic foods. On the other hand, I was intensely, monomaniacally inquisitive about girls.

I began to broaden my culinary horizons,in my 20s, when I traveled and lived overseas, initially for a period of about 18 months. In some cases I ate new things because the alternative was not eating at all. It was hardly surprising that these experiences fostered a love of interesting food. To this day, I will try anything once. Being an adventurous eater has made my life much more interesting by opening the door to all manner of appetizing delights.

There is no reason to be stuck eating the same foods day in and day out when there is so much potentially scrumptious temptation on offer. Strangely, this argument is used by some people to argue against monogamy in relationships. I say strangely, but there is some sense to it, isn't there? Why stick with one woman when there are so many to choose from? Why spend you're whole life having to make love with the same person? Meat and three veggies? Come one! There's so much more available.

Based on a complete misunderstanding of the purpose of sex, and ignorance of its power, this philosophy would be embarrassing and laughable, if it weren't so dangerous. How can you compare food, which exists for enjoyment and sustenance alone, with relationships? 

Apparently you can, if the evidence is anything to go by.  Don't worry, I'm not about to start spouting statistics about sex, divorce, and adultery, nor decry the abomination which is the pornography industry. I don't need to go there. All I need to do is present my life as exhibit A, and tell the judge that I rest my case.

By the way, I still eat a sandwich for lunch most days so maybe there's hope for me yet.

Celebrate the Small Things: Retired from Cooking

It's not that I can't cook. I have a small collection of recipes that I do well, and I can handle meat and veggies with no problem. Once upon a time I even liked to have a weekly dabble in cooking something different, from a cook book-although the results of these experiments were mixed.

Back in the day, I didn't mind sharing the cooking duties. My fiance and I decided that 3-4 home cooked meals and the rest in take-aways and left-overs would be just the right mix for us. These days, it's just me, and I just don't want to cook. Even if I had a stove and an oven, which I don't, I still wouldn't cook. I've become a big fan of Lean Cuisine microwave meals, and I still love take-away food. Not junk like McDonalds. I'm talking about Thai, Indian, Vietnamese, Mexican etcetera.

Microwave meals are cheap, tasty and if the boxes are to be believed healthy. For between $4 and $6 I can have a satisfying meal after just 6 minutes in the nuclear oven. When I started eating these meals, I found the portions were too small and I would occasionally double up, but now my stomach has adjusted to smaller serves which is great except when I eat out and I can't finish the big meal for which I paid, and over which I salivated.

My system now prefers small meals, so when I order take-out, it will usually provide two meals not one. For example, if I spend $20 at Prickles Mexican, I get two dinners for $10 a pop.
In order to satisfy my penchant for variety, I'm working my way through the menus at my local take away restaurants and sampling all the different varieties of microwave meals in the supermarket freezer.



You might think I'm missing out, but I'm as happy as Larry. I don't know who Larry is, but I'm thankful for cheap, convenient and tasty food.

Y is for Yummy

Y is for Yummy

“As Mark settled himself at a table inside Peewee’s at the Point, he gazed out through the window across Fannie Bay to Darwin city. He sighed with contentment as he soaked up the exclusive ambience of one of Australia’s top restaurants. His contentment was devoured by the anxiety he felt about the salience of the occasion, and his bewilderment. What was he doing here? Less than a week ago, he had been dining with Lisa at The Jade Palace. This was a significant leap up the social ladder, and the company, although not as attractive as Lisa was bound to be intoxicating. He ordered a James Squire Sundown Lager, and a Puglises sourdough with wattleseed butter and bush tomato relish for an appetizer.”

From chapter 22, Ashmore Grief

This is something a little lighter, but no less tasty than most of my posts. I am not a foodie. I am not obsessed with cooking shows, nor do I spend hours in the kitchen because I love it. In fact, I spend as little time in the kitchen as possible. I do like food, and I have a good appetite. I am an adventurous eater. If I have to go back to the same restaurant, I will order something different from the menu. I will take a risk because I figure if I am out, and someone is cooking for me, why not try something different, even something a little weird sounding. I like food and eating out, but for me the food is always secondary to the company. Dining out is an interesting setting in which to observe human behaviour and I am a student of human behaviour.

We tend not to go to ‘fancy pants’ establishments like PeeWee’s at the Point because of the cost. Big plates, small servings and exorbitant prices tend to spoil the experience for me. However, last year for our anniversary we stayed in Sydney at Swissotel, and ate dinner at Jpb which is located inside the hotel. That was pretty special and I didn’t give a second thought to the cost. It was a special occasion and the food was superb. I had the Crispy Dutton Park duck leg confit, I think.

Tell me about the fanciest dining out experience you’ve ever had.

Pee Wees at the Point

www.peewees.com.au