Surely I didn’t know much about the Sydney Opera House when we visited that city. Oh course, I knew of it, having seen countless pictures of the outside over the years. I knew we were going to have a tour of the facility, and that I’d likely get some nice photos of it. I knew where it was located in the harbor. With its unique architecture. But I was unprepared for the splendor of it. The majesty of it. The beauty of it. Plus the awe I felt viewing the inside of it too. And the music? Oh my goodness. Was I impressed!

On the tour we learned a lot about the architecture – and more specifically about the Danish architect, Jorn Utzon, himself. He was a johnny-come-lately with a hand-sketched design (no professional drawings or blueprints at all). We learned about how much money it took to build the House (initially it was projected at 3 million – it eventually cost 103 million), and so many more years than planned to complete it. And about how the city removed the architect toward the end of it, although they did abide by his original plan. Many people in the city were outraged at the costs involved. The architect never submitted a construction estimate – he was merely the designer. Once selected he worked furiously to make the design work. Unfortunately he died in 2008, never having seen his completed masterpiece.

Fortunately, the one free night we had in Sydney there was a performance by the Sydney Symphony. Weeks ahead I’d purchased (online) two tickets for $92 apiece, when there were no more than a handful of seats left. The interior of the Opera House is the color you see in the photos.

In the top picture you can see where we were seated, about 6-7 rows from the back wall! (You’re not supposed to take photos inside the concert hall, but lots of people were doing it, so I took one without flash.) The bottom photo was taken on the tour we did, in front of the orchestra area. The clear spheres above are acoustical additions to assist the musicians to hear one another. Seated as we were (for the concert) as high as we were, we anticipated we might not get the best sound. Not so – it was superb. The concert itself, called Arabian Nights, was without a doubt, the most beautiful classical concert I’ve ever heard. Probably because of the magic of the Sydney Opera House. The symphony musicians were exceptional. The first violin played several solo parts – he was amazing! We heard music from Spartacus (the ballet) by Khachaturian, a piano concerto by Saint-Saens, and the capstone of the evening was Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade – Symphonic Suite, Opus 35.

Here’s one more photo taken outside, but we were standing in between some of the shells. The design is quite remarkable. Go online to read more (see link up top).

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Sydney Bridge is just beautiful. Striking looking. Graceful. We saw it in bright sunshine, clouds, rain and darkness. Now just picture yourself climbing up the top. It’s done, and several in our group did it. Here’s a photo where you can see the climbers:

See those little matchsticks? People. In safety gear, hooked onto the bridge (there have been no accidents since they’ve been offering this treat to excitement-seekers). Four in our group went on the climb and said it was glorious. Not difficult (the guide pauses frequently for story-telling and to offer time for photographs). I guess the views were spectacular. It takes several hours to do it (including all the suiting-up time prior to the start of the climb). Maybe next time I go to Sydney I’ll do that.

There’s a more expansive view of the city. You can barely see the Opera House just to the left of the bridge. Then the city proper further left, obviously.

Further out is the entrance to Sydney Harbor – the headlands off in the distance. It was a spectacular day for photos – not even a hint of muck in the air. I don’t think Australia has smog anyway.

There’s a photo of Bondi Beach. And did you know it’s pronounced bond-eye, not bondee as I’ve always heard it. Bondi is an aboriginal word. I think it means something like blue water, or sandy beach, or similar! It was a lovely day there too with some people sunbathing on the beach. We savored a nice latte as we enjoyed the sunshine.

I must say the Aussies know how to make some mighty good coffee (strong) and coffee drinks. We had lattes in lots of places in both Australia and New Zealand. They were all great.

The clouds were spectacular that day as we took a harbor cruise. This was just before the darker clouds moved in and dumped some rain on us, but it was short-lived.

There’s a photo I took of my DH Dave as we sat enjoying our coffee at Bondi Beach.

One of the other major sites in Sydney is Darling Harbour, or the Circular Quay. At one end you can see the harbor but it’s an area developed prior to the Olympics held in Sydney some years back. People thought it would be an eyesore after the Olympics had come and gone, but it’s a huge tourist attraction and a gathering place for the locals too. Mostly it’s restaurants, but there’s also an IMAX theater, and some shops too. There’s a park, an area for buskers or entertainers to do their thing, a green grassy area, some fountains. Also the Sydney Aquarium and the Maritime Museum. It’s a HUB of activity. We had one mediocre meal there, and another fantastic meal there. I want to return to Sydney. Some day.

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Wouldn’t you think a carrot is just a carrot? Wrong. A roasted carrot takes on a delicious caramelized exterior – it brings out the sugar in carrots. Just succulent as can be. I think I could eat a plate full of these. And they’re SO easy. I mean it. Slice carrots (on a diagonal), toss with fresh thyme, oil and salt and pepper, roast with a few dots of butter for about 20-30 minutes and you’ll have just the best carrots ever. How quick is that? I have roasted carrots before, but the combo with fresh thyme (my favorite herb) just gave it better dimension. Make these, okay? The recipe is from Phillis Carey, my favorite cooking diva.

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A year ago: a photo of my kitchen Christmas décor
Two years ago: Apricot Thyme Cookies
Three years ago: Hot Buttered Rum

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Not being much of a horticulturist, I know only that the left one is a ginger flower. They’re just pretty and I enjoyed looking at them. The picture at left is the outdoor lobby at the Sea Temple Resort where we stayed in Port Douglas, Queensland. What a place. Gorgeous, with huge pools, and a lovely restaurant. We had probably the nicest rooms on the entire trip at this resort. But it was hot and muggy, like Hawaii.

I’ve forgotten what these flowers are called as well. But they were hanging everywhere on the grounds of the Sea Temple Resort.

Cape Douglas is a major jumping-off point for tours of the Great Barrier Reef. And unfortunately I won’t be sharing any photos of that since I didn’t go (I get seasick and Dave didn’t want to carry the camera).

The day the group went to the GBR I took a local bus into town, shopped and had lunch. And blogged and emailed. Dave wasn’t as impressed with the Reef as he’d expected (but then, he didn’t dive or snorkel either one) but he did go on a glass-bottomed boat.

After spending two nights at the Resort, we bussed on up to Daintree National Park. Which entails boarding a small ferry, crossing the Daintree River, then proceeding on a curvy road further north into the park and along the edge of the rainforest.  There are some residents of Daintree, but not many. One family purchased a plot of land that did host orchards, but the eco-heads decided it wasn’t appropriate to have a commercial orchard there, inside a rainforest, so they had to shut down the commercial side of fruit growing. Instead they lead rainforest tours, which we did. It was hard enough trying to walk in the rainforest (with all the vines, creepers, tree roots, rocks, crevices) but for Dave to do it with artificial legs was a monumental task. Yet he did it, by holding onto my shoulders with each step forward.

One of the elusive animals in the rainforest is the cassowary (a bird). They’re as tall, or taller than an adult human. The photo at left is a statue, near the entrance to the park, in case we didn’t see one, which we didn’t. The right photo is a sign right on the narrow highway about drivers being cautious, not running over a cassowary. The prehistoric birds live in very few places in the world and are endangered, I believe. One lives in and around the resort where we stayed – he’s not a pet – just that the resort environs are his territory. He tolerates the human encroachment on his territory. Unfortunately, he was not to be viewed!

On our rainforest walk (in the filtered sunshine) we saw all kinds of interesting flora including the large tree at left. We were told its variety, but I didn’t write it down – it’s deadly poisonous. It has all kinds of other rainforest lore about it – none of which I remember! And on the right you can see a palm tree (fan palm, I think) in its journey to find sufficient light. The stem on that particular palm was about 40-50 feet long and it had finally found a place where it could attempt to grow straight up and catch some rays.

More scenery from within the rainforest, clockwise top right: Dave standing in front of one of the old trees near the front door of the resort. They just constructed an elevated pathway around both sides of it; a stick bug – the bug is pointing upward at about 12:05 (his head) and his tail is at about 12:35. The body of the stick bug is slightly darker color than the branches on which he was clinging; a view from the small river boat we cruised on, in and around the swamps and mangroves; one of the wider rainforest paths we walked.

More rainforest scenes: the pool at the resort – looks just like a natural rainforest pool, doesn’t it?; a view of the Daintree Tea Plantation. Hard to believe some folks actually started a tea plantation there some years back. I bought some of the tea – it’s okay. Nothing particularly unusual about it; and lastly a view from the river cruise of the mangroves. Note the light green color of the water.

A view from the narrow highway within the rainforest looking out at the blue Pacific.

And here we have a Lamington. Marilyn, our guide, kept telling us about Lamingtons, and finally at Daintree they had them on a dessert tray. As the story goes, way back when the British were truly ruling Australia, Lord Lamington, then Governor of Queensland, went to visit somewhere. The cook had no dessert to serve him. But the cook had some leftover white cake. And chocolate. And  coconut. Small pieces of cake were cut, dipped it on all four sides in melted chocolate, then sprinkled liberally with chopped coconut. A dessert was born, and it’s a favorite among the Aussies. I can’t say that it did anything for me . . .

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Oh my, was this delicious. What’s there not to like about tender, juicy beef tenderloin? And succulent roasted mushrooms? The recipe is from a cooking class with Phillis Carey – such simple sounding fare, but just over the top delicious, I must say. It’s all made in the same pan and if you’ve timed your dinner just right, it all comes together perfectly. You need a good meat thermometer and a good roasting pan (not a rimmed cookie sheet) and you’re in biz.

You use the center third or so of a whole beef tenderloin. Now, I know buying a beef tenderloin is dear, but you’ll get ample meals out of it. This is just that middle portion (2-3 pounds or so) which will make an elegant dinner party extra special.

Do buy good mushrooms – you want the variety of oyster and shiitake as well as the crimini ones too. The mushrooms are so good when pan roasted, especially nestled up next to a beef tenderloin. If you want to serve a larger crowd, this recipe can be adapted to roasting a whole tenderloin – just increase the herb rub accordingly and fold the tapered end under so it doesn’t over cook. The baking time will be the same, just make more of the brandy sauce to go with it.

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A year ago: Pork Mini-Roast with Memphis Rub
Three years ago: Chocolate Steamed Pudding

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Oh, was this ever delicious. It was last week sometime when a group of us were talking about old-time recipes that nobody makes anymore, and my friend Peggy (I think) mentioned that spice cake is one of those things that’s gone by the wayside. That got me to thinking about it. My mother used to make a great spice cake (not a mix, although Duncan Hines and Pillsbury did used to produce a box mix), but after looking, I couldn’t find one in her recipe box. Found three recipes, though, amongst my cookbooks and to-try recipes. The one with the browned butter frosting stood out.

I made the cake, and our daughter Sara, who came to visit with her family over the weekend, made the frosting. Neither was difficult, but the spice mixture is certainly different. The recipe came from Sunset Magazine in October. Its title is “French Four Spice Cake with Browned Butter Spice Frosting.” That seemed like an unwieldy name, so I shortened it up some. But the recipe is just as it was printed in the magazine and online.

In France, they have a spice called quatre épices. It’s a mixture of spices, including white pepper. Maybe in France you can buy this already packaged (like we would buy pumpkin pie spice). It’s not hard to make – as long as you have white peppercorns on hand, you’ll likely have the other spices (cinnamon, ginger, cloves, nutmeg). Although it’s called four spice, it’s actually five. I made a small batch in my electric spice grinder. Just remember that once spices are mixed together, they don’t hold their flavors as long – use the mixture within a month. Also, grind it up well – you don’t want little chunks of white pepper in your cake. You use some of it in the cake and some in the frosting as well.

The cake fills a 9×9 pan, but actually, we got many more than 12 servings out of it – if you served it with some vanilla ice cream on the side, I think it would easily serve 16. Whatever the serving sizes, it’s really good. Comfort food. And the frosting – oh my goodness – it’s rich, but good enough that you could easily lick the beater clean as a whistle! Don’t be tempted to make more frosting (to frost the sides, for instance). You don’t need more. The cake is tender and tasty, but the frosting puts it onto another plane!

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A year ago: Saffron Risotto Cakes (oh, yum, love those things)
Two years ago: Rice Pudding
Three years ago: Cauliflower with Scallop Soup

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After we had our big turkey dinner on Thanksgiving I piled all the bones, a bit of the skin, and some of the meat that I chose not to pick off, into my big crockpot and left it to simmer with a couple of quarts of water. It simmered overnight. By morning I had this lovely big pan full of thick turkey stock. Along with a bunch of little, tender pieces of turkey too (you can see a long strand of it in the left foreground above). After saving the meat pieces, I strained the broth to remove all the bones, skin and some of the little pieces of junky tissue, and it had almost no fat in it.

Going to my to-try file I found a recipe that I’d read on someone else’s blog. I wasn’t so enamored with it as the blogger was (see link in last sentence below). My DH said “you can throw out the rest of that.” Sigh. I haven’t, because I figure I’ll eat it, even if he won’t. It’s rare that I make something my hubby simply won’t eat, but this dish was one. (Not the rice, just the turkey part.)

This reminds me of a story  . . . but let me just say about this above recipe, that I altered the ingredients a little. That sets the stage for my story  . . . years ago I was good friends with a gal who went to college with me. She married the same week I did (this was in 1962), and we ended up moving close to one another (by happenstance). In a matter of 5 years she had a whole passel of children, was a stay-at-home mom of the first order. Cooked everything from scratch, including all her own bread. One day she made a dessert – let’s just say it was a kind of Boston cream pie dessert – and raved about it, and she shared the recipe with me. A few weeks later I made it, but was short on time and I used a box mix for the yellow cake and a package of quick-cooking pudding for part of the filling. I wasn’t so thrilled with the results and mentioned it to my friend [one of my early lessons – if it’s your friend’s recipe, you don’t always tell your friends everything]. She quizzed me about what I’d done. After telling her how I’d changed the recipe to save time, she was hugely annoyed and informed me that if I wasn’t going to make things exactly the way she gave me the recipe, then she wasn’t going to give me any more recipes! It’s now 45 years later, and I still remember her lecturing me! She and her family moved to Oregon in the 1970’s and we’ve lost touch.

So perhaps, because I changed the recipe I made here today, it wasn’t like the recipe I printed out. The blogger would probably scold me for not adhering to her recipe exactly. She had used fresh, raw chicken, marinated it in yogurt and stuff, then flash-fried it. No sauce at all (there’s no sauce in the picture above, just some nuts on top). Me? Well, I had leftover turkey. So I coated the nice tender bite-sized breast meat pieces with the yogurt mixture and flash fried it too (quickly, as it didn’t need any cooking, just warming). The mixture was a tad on the dry side – but maybe it’s supposed to be that way – it’s a rice dish, not a curry or a stew. But it was too dry for me. So with the leftovers of that I added a jar of Trader Joe’s Thai green chile curry sauce. That almost made it worse!

BUT, the rice was fantastic, so I’m giving you that part. It will be made again. And again. Because of the texture of the rice (it’s actually more like a pilaf) and the flavor (saffron). I made a nice big batch of it and will freeze quart-sized freezer bags of it for future meals. It’s a Nigella Lawson recipe.

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A year ago: Butternut Squash Soup with Amaretti Cookie Crumbles
Two years ago: Chocolate Mousse in the Blender
Three years ago: Harlequin Pinwheels

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Usually I wouldn’t write up a separate post about a tree. But I thought this tree was worth a separate story – called a desert oak. It survives in the outback with a bizarre set of DNA. Hmmm, do trees have DNA? Maybe not, but you get my drift. They grow in profusion in the area around Ayers Rock. They’re hardy trees, with a unique method of growing. Once they germinate and grow up a foot or so they almost go in hibernation until they have sufficient rain or a water source to continue growing. If this tree happens to germinate and grow during a drought (the outback’s last drought lasted 7 years) it will sit in its hibernation until it knows it can survive. Meanwhile, it sends down a tap root (one, single root that goes straight down, maybe several hundred feet) until it locates a water source. It may take years for it to reach water as the tap root grows very slowly. (Can you imagine?)

The tree pictured above (about 12-15 feet high, is my recollection) is probably 200 years old. These trees are very slow growing, obviously. Taller ones, up to about 30 feet, are hundreds and hundreds of years old. I just found this entire set of facts about an outback tree so interesting. The leaves are kind of spiny – not soft or frilly at all, but stiff and spiky. Why it’s called an oak, I don’t know.

A year ago: Pumpkin Streusel Coffeecake
Two years ago: Pannettone (an Italian Christmas bread)
Three years ago: Salmon with Maple and Thyme

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The photo above was part of a panorama at the Royal Flying Doctor Service facility in Alice Springs. We visited the site, had a tour with a volunteer docent and watched a movie about the services. Here’s the history, recopied from the RFDS website:

The RFDS began as the dream of the Rev John Flynn, a minister with the Presbyterian Church. He witnessed the daily struggle of pioneers living in remote areas where just two doctors provided the only medical care for an area of almost 2 million square kilometres [that’s about a 75 thousand square miles if I did my math correctly – about the size of Texas x 3]. Flynn’s vision was to provide a ‘mantle of safety’ for these people and on 15 May 1928, his dream had become a reality with the opening of the Australian Inland Mission Aerial Medical Service (later renamed the Royal Flying Doctor Service) in Cloncurry, Queensland.

Until the 1960s, the Service rarely owned our own aircraft. We used contractors to provide aircraft, pilots and servicing. We progressively began to purchase our own aircraft and employ our own pilots and engineers.

Today, we own a fleet of 53 fully instrumented aircraft with the very latest in navigation technology. We operate 21 bases across Australia. Our pilots annually fly the equivalent of 25 round trips to the moon and our doctors and flight nurses are responsible for the care of nearly 270,000 patients! We’ve come a long way from that first flight in 1928 which saw the Flying Doctor airborne at last.

Some of the work is done via telephone – with doctors available to discuss medical issues with the people who live in the outback. If an emergency exists, a plane is dispatched to the closest tiny airport and either the patient is treated on site, or the patient is transported to the closest major hospital. It’s an amazing service provided to the people who live in outback Australia (they do have national health in that country). After our tour we visited the facility’s small gift shop and many of us on our trip purchased something there. I bought a cookbook of Aussie recipes [called Mantle of Safety Cookbook 2] compiled by the Auxiliary of the RFDS. All proceeds benefit the purchase of equipment (planes and on-board medical gear, none of which is paid for by the government).

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Can I just tell you to make this? Just do it, okay? It’s SO good. Mellow. Comforting. Sort of sweet (from the apples). The consistency of mashed potatoes, but tastes nothing whatsoever like mashed potatoes. Parsnips just don’t get a lot of respect, but they’re so worth making. And when you mix them half and half with apples, well, a whole new thing is born!

Our daughter-in-law Karen brought these to our house for Thanksgiving dinner. It’s a Martha Stewart recipe (from the November issue), and Karen made it exactly as directed. I wouldn’t change a thing. You bring the parsnips and apples to a simmer for 25 minutes, mash, add butter, salt, pepper and serve. Delicious! Worth making.

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A year ago: Smoked Pork (in a smoker)
Three years ago: Turkey Tortilla Free Form Soup

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