When we went for our daily walk along the river’s edge I noticed a man sitting on a bench. Sitting on a bench in our neck of the woods is popular. Many of the Southern Highlands inhabitants are retired. Shire’s planning department must have heeded some advice from a bright young person just out of the University having studied Social Comfort & Welfare. (SCW) She might well have suggested a liberal sprinkling of slatted bench seats throughout the municipality.
I don’t know who the sadist was who invented those concrete benches many years ago. Were the councils afraid of them getting stolen? Soon after our arrival in 1956 my dad noticed bus stops with the concrete bench on which hardly anyone ever sat. Perhaps that was the aim. You know, the Anglo Saxon’s avoidance of too much comfort making you soft and girly-like! We, in Australia like to be seen as a nation of men and men.
This man looked sadly serious which seemed out of place. The morning was beautiful and the cockatoos gave it a helping hand by hanging upside down from the willow tree under which this serious solitary man was sitting on his wooden slatted bench. We are blessed with so many varieties of parrots. The orange, and green to yellow and even black and yellow feathered ones. They give the black crows a good lesson by chasing them as much as possible. I can never forgive crows for pecking out the eyes of just born lambs back on our days of farming. Why do they do that?
However, the man on the seat did not seem to care about the concert with acrobatics that the cockies were giving. Free of charge too. And if that was not enough, down at earth’s level there were the ducks. They too were in a good mood, just happily paddling about after surviving the night from the cruel red-beady eyed killer fox. Our neighbour lost his chickens for the third time. The foxes, like the crows, seem to take delight in senseless killing. Why chew off the heads of chickens and then just leave them flapping about on the laneway?
I wonder how many go through life without ever realising how much joy a simple anchovy can give. I don’t mean in an aquarium but more on a ceramic plate and cooked. We seem to cook more and more using those little fishes. For those that complain about their fishy pungency; what do you expect? A rose by any other name etc.? So, it is with oceanic life. Each to their own identity and long live l’odeur l’anchvy.
Perhaps the man on the slatted bench has missed out on the anchovy. Perhaps he should have been told that when anchovies and garlic are chopped up with lots of fresh rosemary and then deep fried in blue smoky hot oil it makes fore one of the most tantalising sauces. Add and mix in some mustard and one is in heaven. Try it in a pasta. Flavour development in the ripening of anchovy (Engraulis encrasicholus) and used when mixed with other herbs is a bit like the art of winemaking. There will be endless varieties and flavours. A truly amazing little fish.
I buy the little jars of anchovies from the local supermarket and might use about five or six of them with four of five cloves of juicy garlic and a heaped spoonful of fresh rosemary which grows in abundance in our garden. One can muck about with adding a little chilli and different mustards, fresh cream, coconut milk and much, much more.
Next time I see the sad man on the slatted seat I might introduce and give him an anchovy.
Do you think it would help?
Tags: Anchovy, Cockatoo, Coconut Cream, Crows, Fox, L'odeur, Parrot, rosemary
March 17, 2018 at 6:09 am |
I agree Gerard, anchovies , plus whatever, well almost, make a lovely tasty pasta sauce. With a side or two of nice tasty wine, heaven.r
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March 17, 2018 at 7:00 am |
I wanted to take some anchovies around to see if that man might like some. Helvi doesn’t want to walk with me if I have anchovies in my pocket, even though I would wrap them in glad wrap.
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March 17, 2018 at 6:47 am |
You have certainly cheered me up, Gerard. Thanks for the anchovy recipe, sounds delicious. I’m sure that old man would be cheered if you take him your offering!
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March 17, 2018 at 7:02 am |
Thank you Barbara, glad you are feeling cheerful. I might take the anchovies around in a foam esky because Helvi is not keen for me to take them around in my pocket even though they would be wrapped up.
Heaven knows how many lonely people are around never having enjoyed a single anchovy. It would be such a burden.
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March 17, 2018 at 7:27 am |
Maybe he had indigestion from too much garlic?
I agree, anchovies are the way forward. A delightfully versatile little fish.
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March 17, 2018 at 9:29 pm |
I am not sure about that, Jenny.
He did not look like a garlic man. More of a spam or Devon bloke. I say that because he had a copy of The Daily Telegraph resting in his lap.
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March 17, 2018 at 7:28 am |
Little jars of anchovies? I buy them in 750-gram jars. Anchovies are tops!
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March 17, 2018 at 9:31 pm |
I knew it, Peggy. I always felt you were a good anchovy loving woman. My birthday is in August and|I might ask for a solid jar of anchovies. I can already see them all shimmering in large glass jar.
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March 17, 2018 at 1:11 pm |
How I would love to sit on a bench with parrots fluttering around me. So pretty. But I’ll pass on the anchovies. 😄
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March 17, 2018 at 9:34 pm |
Oh, come on, Carrie.
Give it a go. If still unwilling, feed them to the ducks. I am sure they would be your friends in no time.
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March 17, 2018 at 10:14 pm
😄
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March 17, 2018 at 6:15 pm |
My favorite pizza topping – pineapple and anchovy.
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March 17, 2018 at 9:38 pm |
Yes, Stuart.
We often share a ‘Napoli’ pizza at the Imperial pub.
It has toppings of small tomatoes, capers and lots of anchovies. They are very thin pizzas with a delicious thick crust around the edge.
Combined with a large glass of dark ale and a chardonnay for Helvi it remains a favourite lunch dish when we feel like a bit of a nosh-up.
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March 17, 2018 at 11:32 pm |
These cute young things have never sat on a cold cement slat bench in the middle of winter. Wonder what happened to the lone bench sitter?
The anchovy garlic mix sounded so good I bought a new pot of rosemary.
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March 18, 2018 at 9:43 pm |
Yes, those concrete seats sure toughened one up. Rosemary is a nice herb and here it grows everywhere. The lone bench sitter has vanished. Perhaps he had a disagreement with his wife; (did he leave the lid off the pickles jar, or worse?)
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March 18, 2018 at 8:08 am |
I usually walk to this seat in Lakelands Park.
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March 18, 2018 at 9:39 pm |
That is a very nice seat, Uta. Looks pretty solid too!
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March 21, 2018 at 5:04 am
I think it was already there when we moved to the area nearly 24 years ago!
The other day Peter had business here in 43 Burelli St, Wollongong:
http://findus.humanservices.gov.au/findnearest.asp?locationid=535736&submittopage=locatorprofile.asp&log=1
I preferred to wait outside rather than in the air-conditioned building somewhere inside. Outside there were plenty very new looking seats all around the place. Nicely shaded too with suitable plants. Lots of people passed by. Yet I was the only only one sitting on one of the seats!
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March 21, 2018 at 9:33 pm
The design of street architecture including public seats has improved enormously, Uta.
The more one goes back in Australian history the more we find that comfort was always of secondary importance. Stoic acceptance of adversity and hardship was the key to being a good and strong Australian. Comfort was being soft and just did not fit in. And then there were always the flies, droughts, bushfires, starving sheep and cattle with failing crops.
I am reading a terrific little book; ‘The Road from Coorain.’ written by Jill Ker Conway.
Now, of course things are different. We enjoy avocado on toast with a latte and good company. Comfortable seatings and lots of eateries. No more smelly mutton, devon and bitter tea.
The advantages of input by different nationalities.
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March 22, 2018 at 12:00 am |
When I’m in Wollongong I like to go for San Churro CHOCOLATERIA to have an Azteca hot chocolate drink with with ‘a merry measure of chili’ in it! 🙂
http://www.sanchurro.com/locations/san-churro-wollongong
http://www.sanchurro.com/menu/hot-chocolate
Yes, Gerard, times have changed!
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March 19, 2018 at 3:11 am |
Oh, dear. I’ll have to pass, Gerard, No anchovies for me. I’m fond enough of fish and shellfish, and will eat an oyster raw, but the anchovies just don’t pass muster. I wasn’t traumatized by them as a child, or sickened by them in a restaurant. They’re just one of “those” things.
I had feared that someone would mention the pineapple and anchovy pizza, and someone did. If anchovies are bad, that combination is ghastly. Thank goodness we’re all free to favor what we please in the food category: at least, once we get away from our parents’ table.
Now, herring is another matter. I’ll eat pickled herring every day of the week and be happy. I don’t think anyone’s thought of putting herring on pizza, but with some nice cheese and some crackers, it’s wonderful.
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March 20, 2018 at 1:29 am |
The road to the acceptance of the anchovy can be arduous and long winded, Linda. But the triumph of overcoming the initial resistance is everlasting with the exultations lasting a lifetime.
Most people recoil when the odour of this fish first strikes the nostrils. But, this is overcome by chopping the garlic and anchovies with whatever else (rosemary) and fried in a very hot oil. The mixture then has lost all of its fishy taste or smell.
It is the inclusion of the anchovy in the sauce that is the magic. Some chemistry takes place.
I have high hopes that you will overcome, Linda. You said you like the pickled herring. Goodness me, you are so close.
Another favourite of mine are those bunches of small smoked baby eel. I haven’t seen them in Australia, but as a young boy back in Holland we often ate them
I remember going to bed with a good book ( Jules Verne) and snacking on those little eels. Heavenly!
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March 19, 2018 at 4:56 am |
Oh, yes, I DO think it would help, Gerard!
And you might make a new friend!
HUGS!!! 🙂
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March 20, 2018 at 1:33 am |
I am sure I will come across other people on slatted timber benches, Caroline. It always helps to strike up a conversation if I have Milo with me as well. For some people a dog is a circuit breaker for starting a talk or chat.
Hugs…
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March 20, 2018 at 6:45 am
Yes, my Cooper is like Milo. I meet a lot of people because Cooper goes right up to them and wants to get petted. 🙂 So conversations begin. 🙂
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March 22, 2018 at 12:11 am |
” . . . this is overcome by chopping the garlic and anchovies with whatever else (rosemary) and fried in a very hot oil. The mixture then has lost all of its fishy taste or smell. . . . ”
The mixture then has lost all of its fishy taste or smell? It makes me wonder, that maybe, just maybe, I should give it a try?!! 🙂
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