I’m back! Despite best efforts, moving from one state to another across the high seas DID get in the way of writing here, in the end. I am sorry about that. We still have no internet (no fault of our own, blinking service providers!) but we DO have our phone data and I’m tethering on that now to write to you.
This move has highlighted just how much food can make you feel at home. When we left New Norfolk in Tassie with a car full of pets and luggage, we only managed one stop (McDonalds!) before we drove onto the Spirit of Tasmania, settled the pets in and retreated to our cabin. While there was food on the boat, it’s pretty horrendous, and thus we went to sleep with empty stomachs (despite Jodi telling me to go to the Hill Street Grocer before we got on the ship!) We woke up the same, and Max (strung out from a night of me snoring … ugh!) tucked into a lacklustre sandwich with a similar attitude. I had a couple of milky coffees and that set me in good stead for the drive through Port Melbourne, the city and onto Fawkner where we now live.
As we drove it was the foodie landmarks that we paced our trip by. That place for laksa. That one for banh mi. That brilliant Korean supermarket. The Queen Victoria Market. Wide Open Road. That french cafe. La Manna. Mediterranean Wholesalers. A1 Bakery. That asian grocer. That Vietnamese bakery. Coburg Market. Half Moon Cafe. Onward into the north.
When we got to our new home, Rin (my eldest kiddo) had filled the fridge - with some help from family and friends (thank you, Anita and Dure!) - as well as unpacked the kitchen for us.
We made jaffles (toasted sandwiches with the edges clamped together in an electric or cast iron press). I had ham, cheese and tomato. Rin had tinned spaghetti. Max … I think he had ham, cheese and tomato too. Washed down with a familiar tea in a familiar cup, it was just the thing to restore weary travellers and ground us to our home and history.
In the days that followed we crammed in bowls of laksa, bahn mi, chocolate bread, sour cherry danish, allllll the dips and Turkish bread (good dips are scarce in Tassie!) and trips to both the Queen Victoria and Preston Markets to get our bearings.
Once I’d cooked a meal in my new kitchen, watched my kids load up our old plates, sat around the table given to me by a friend and chattily eaten together, passing dishes and sauces and salt. Once we’d spilled drinks and brushed away crumbs and giggled at each other’s bad jokes, those dusty travel feelings began to evaporate, replaced by a warmer, fuller, heavier fledgling feeling of belonging once again.
And all this made me wonder about what other people’s ‘home food’ might be. What are the foodie places that define your sense of home. The ones you miss when you go away and feel comforted by as you pass them on your way back? How does food help you get your bearings?
Love to you!
Back tomorrow with a recipe!
xoxo pip
PS: What a brilliant person Rin is. She helped project manage the whole move on this end and made it so much less stressful … even making up our beds before we got here. Such a darling. So kind. I’m so lucky.
Oh Pip, I loved reading this! And what a superstar Rin is! Has it felt like coming home even though you’re in a different part of town?
After almost 15 years here I think we are finally finding our food places. We have our burger joint, or Indian & Chinese take always, the place with the best wood fire pizza. I’ve got my fave delis & grocers. But as for home food nothing says comforting home cooking like a bowl of spaghetti bolognese. It was the same when I lived at home, walking in the door to sauce bubbling in the stove was the best day. And baking sourdough always grounds me in the kitchen. Fresh loaves on my bench is my favourite.
Rin's efforts and management is only a reflection of her love for you and your parenting.
I don't have any love for food anymore it's just a fuel source at the moment. I hope that one day my love of feeding others and eating as an experience will return.
Merry Christmas to you and yours,
cheers Kate