Balmy in a Bungalow
After dinner, it seemed the perfect time to write. The blokes have gone for a walk in the unexpectedly deserted beach, beer stubbies swaggering on hand. The evening air was balmy but not that nippy for this time of the year. The ocean let out a low key murmur and splash, and then went on repeatedly. There were no coconut trees overhead, for this was too far south the eastern seaboard of Australia, but the abandonment of care and the utter lack of sense of time was most rewarding and enveloped the young night.
And what a dinner it was. We started with a rather thick piece of individually served fresh salmon, doused lightly with a refreshing hint of garnish that brought out the inherent sense of the seas rather than overwhelm it. I saw on a side table the cupcakes and the strawberry gourmet ice cream dollops waiting for us. The main course caught me by surprise, a possibly fusion creation that combined soy sauced chicken cuts cooked lovingly in a curry that brought out sensations of cumin, cinnamon sticks and pomelo seeds. Its spiciness was not diluted but rose sufficiently above the savoury texture of double cooked chicken. It reminded me of a dish in the household of a marriage between a southern Chinese and a Brahmin Indian. And the common binding element was the fluffy well steamed rice.
The ice cream amazingly came with fresh mangosteen - the succulent white folds had a firm tastiness that offered a contrasting relief from the curry heat. This was much better than biting into cheese and biscuits at this juncture, and continued the tropical theme for the sit down meal. I thought of white planters from a few generations ago perhaps taking in all these in the middle of the plantation they were stationed in. They wore white - much more stark white than the white haziness of the insides of each purple-coloured mangosteen. Did they get salmon as the entree? Most probably not, in those times - it would have been just bread rolls and butter.
Yes, I was on holiday, and at that moment, nothing topped up a satisfying meal than a cupcake. I chose the apple flavoured version. A latte was the finale, a post script to the dry Carlton that accompanied the curry very well.
And what a dinner it was. We started with a rather thick piece of individually served fresh salmon, doused lightly with a refreshing hint of garnish that brought out the inherent sense of the seas rather than overwhelm it. I saw on a side table the cupcakes and the strawberry gourmet ice cream dollops waiting for us. The main course caught me by surprise, a possibly fusion creation that combined soy sauced chicken cuts cooked lovingly in a curry that brought out sensations of cumin, cinnamon sticks and pomelo seeds. Its spiciness was not diluted but rose sufficiently above the savoury texture of double cooked chicken. It reminded me of a dish in the household of a marriage between a southern Chinese and a Brahmin Indian. And the common binding element was the fluffy well steamed rice.
The ice cream amazingly came with fresh mangosteen - the succulent white folds had a firm tastiness that offered a contrasting relief from the curry heat. This was much better than biting into cheese and biscuits at this juncture, and continued the tropical theme for the sit down meal. I thought of white planters from a few generations ago perhaps taking in all these in the middle of the plantation they were stationed in. They wore white - much more stark white than the white haziness of the insides of each purple-coloured mangosteen. Did they get salmon as the entree? Most probably not, in those times - it would have been just bread rolls and butter.
Yes, I was on holiday, and at that moment, nothing topped up a satisfying meal than a cupcake. I chose the apple flavoured version. A latte was the finale, a post script to the dry Carlton that accompanied the curry very well.
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