I want you to picture yourself sitting in a room, overcome with an insatiable thirst and your favourite wine is sitting before you.
Now imagine that that bottle of wine is just out of reach. Frustrating, isn’t it?
I want you to picture yourself sitting in a room, overcome with an insatiable thirst and your favourite wine is sitting before you.
Now imagine that that bottle of wine is just out of reach. Frustrating, isn’t it?
It began with an array of memories that washed over my mind. Then there were the Steely Dan songs I heard aired on the radio. Then I was outside gardening and loving the feeling of dirt between my fingers.
All this developed into a deep longing. I recall the sensation as it was building: A palatable excitement…A nervous grin…An itch…
Sharon and Darren were out on what was officially their third date. Being such an auspicious occasion, he had brought her to the swankiest restaurant in town overlooking the bay. They both sat perusing the menu with Darren’s eyes immediately scanning the list of entrees. Underneath the kingfish and salmon lay the particular item he had been hoping for.
Oysters.
He had heard they were meant to be an aphrodisiac, ‘The perfect accompaniment to start what will hopefully be a perfect evening with Sharon’.
Or so he thought.
I spent this past Sunday at my Nonna and Nonno’s place eating risotto, drinking wine, having naps, discussing life over a cup of tea and eating a few too many apricot-flavoured fagottini.
My Nonna is generous, pure of heart and just plain gorgeous. You may find it a little strange that I felt ‘inspired’ to post this particular video. My Nonna does not have a fiery temper, nor does she speak in a thick southern Italian accent and dialect. Nonetheless, this video is hilarious. It will make you laugh and may bring back hilarious memories for some, or nightmares for others…
Enjoy.
What did you think this would be?
I dissertation that discussed the potential benefits in ‘To groom, or not to groom your nether regions?’
As much as I would like to venture into great detail on the topic (I kid), this is a blog that is read most eagerly by none other than my mother, which tends to prevent ghastly filth from pouring from my mouth and onto the keyboard. I have heard that it is probably a good thing to be tamed.
Continuing on, the play on words at least allowed me to demonstrate my cunning punning expertise.
I will call it my ‘cun pun‘, for short.
June 4 2011
One day I was asked by my Zio John and Fausto to assist them in their upcoming Salami Day. Clearly I said yes. Along with some of the finest and most respected salami makers of Werribee South, I went and spent half a day with my hands coiled around raw meat. An indescribable sensation in itself.
Where did the name The Pigfather come from, you ask? Need I mention The Godfather? I shouldn’t have to. The first twenty seconds of this film should quite clearly demonstrate the reference!
Filming was gratefully undertaken by my friend Ben who I was able to bring along to join in on the cultural festivities.
Produced by La Donna del Vino.
Quote: “I like my smallgoods well-hung.”
Written tale and photographs to follow.
I remember the first time that I announced to my Dad and his wino buddies that I was thinking of studying winemaking. I was standing around a large plastic tub filled with bobbing black grapes, my Dad was off to one side carrying an emptied wooden crate, family friend Dino held his home-made macerating device in the tub, cousin Julian was having a debate with my Dad, while cousin John wielded the hose and was seen cleaning the machinery post-crushing. It was a typical homemade winemaking setting, with Dino’s mother Rita standing by to complete the picture.
This movie was filmed by my mother Christine back in 1996.
To indicate the times, there is a moustache in this film worn by John. A.
This is what my brothers, sister and I grew up with in Werribee South.
The film was edited and ‘polished’ by the daughter Krystina (me) some fifteen years later in 2011.
If you can squander some time aside then I hope you enjoy it, because we have only embarrassed ourselves by publishing it.
Warner Brothers Pepé le Pew aka Little Beau Pepé
IN ITALIAN with French accent! Un po’ strano (a little strange)!
Finishing Things
I am passing this on to you because it definitely worked for me today, and we all could probably use more calm in our lives.
Some doctor on TV this morning said the way to achieve inner peace is to finish all the things you have started.
So…
Mostly people will complain or berate someone for enunciating a word incorrectly. Hell, I’m guilty! My mother struggles with many a word, but I suppose her most famous is referring to the Japanese number game Sudoku (pronounced like SUE-DOOR-KU) as Sodooko (yeah…SUE-DOO-KOE). Wrong. So obviously wrong.
Yet what about the others who tease someone for pronouncing things CORrectly!?! This is something that happens to me all the bloody time. Bloody bloody bloody. Watch your mouth, young lady…Ahhh shaddup you face! (see end of post)
Yep…I bet that Hamlet did ponder this question too.
Before you go getting yourself confused, here is a super-brief explanation of what ‘planking’ is.
Actually, first off, this is what it is NOT like.
Lesson A) It is NOT like doing the ol’ “Light as a feather, stiff as a board’ concept seen in witchcraft movies like The Craft:
Lesson B) It is also NOT like my family cat, Pedro, who got it wrong straight away by being on his backside. Good try Pedro.
OK yes, I am lame. As always. I had made this a number of months ago and each time I look at it I giggle. Yep. Giggle like a four-year old. I laugh at my own jokes only because nobody else will.
So the classic film ‘The Sound of Music’ was set in Austria. Therefore it is only appropriate that I adorn the lovely non-Austrian actress Julie Andrews with wines produced from the white grape variety grown predominantly in Austria: Gruner Veltliner.
Would be a pretty tacky marketing promotion, wouldn’t it?
Yet if it induces a giggle, then my work is done.
Two months ago I made the grand voyage….y’know, moving from your parents house into the city. Mind you, I used to live only twenty-five minutes outside of the city. But trust me….it has made a big difference! The thing is, I think my upbringing has had a significant effect on how I set up my place, which I have realised does not correlate to the way the majority of city-dwellers reside! Hence, I have quietly entitled myself, ‘The Barefoot Bogan’, which is how I imagine my fellow apartment neighbours would refer to me!
I grew up with my parents on a farm in the market-garden region of Werribee South.
I was surrounded by broccoli, iceberg lettuce and cauliflower.
‘Walking the dog’ meant trudging in gumboots through the sludgy red earth on the farm.
We didn’t have pools, we turned on the sprinkler.
Farm-cycles meant chicken manure smells normal to me.
I killed time sitting under the apple tree and watching clouds.
Sorry mum, but I am going to be honest here.
My parents’ property does not have any Fichi d’India (prickly pear) trees. Yet interestingly, come March and April, there seems to be an endless supply of this fruit in the kitchen.
Mind you, they did not pay for it…”Is this part of some dodgy Italian bartering scheme?”, I had initially wondered, ie: “You give me one styrene of broccoli, I give you two styrene of fichi d’india!”. ‘Fraid not, folks.
What ol’ ma & pa DO have is a conveniently-placed secret fichi d’india tree that they pass on their daily walk. From afar and to the untrained eye it will simply seem like a huge prickly succulent. Warning ladies and gentleman: it IS a huge prickly succulent but if you look closer you may find something oh so delicious within it’s spiky womb.
Should you be around in March/April and happen to be walking along a well-known foot/bike path in Melbourne’s west, you may perchance notice a seemingly pleasant older couple strolling along, wearing gloves and hovering around a specific area, heads darting from left to right occasionally to check for passers by, also holding a strange elongated object in one hand, plastic bags in the other.
“Strange, they seem a bit dodgy…“, you may wonder.
Relax, it’s just my parents.
Apples and Wine
Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. Most men don’t want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they somtimes take the apples from the ground that aren’t as good, but easy. The apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they’re amazing. They just have to wait for the right man to come along, the one who is brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.
Now men…
I’m such a good girl volunteering my only day off in the week to help pour wine. Not just anybody can pour wine, you know? Clearly, that is why sommeliers and other wino people get asked to contribute a small portion of their time to such wonderful events!
Speaking of pouring skills, I might as well just get my doofus actions out of the way immediately!
So I got asked by Dan Sims (of the Wine Guide and Sommeliers Australia) to volunteer for this event during Melbourne Food & Wine Festival at the Langham Hotel Saturday morning. It would be lovely to sit in on the events, help pour and set up and taste the line-up of wines free of charge so of course I said yes!
Where my debacle comes in was at the start of the day when I was out the back opening some Gembrook Hills Blanc de Blanc sparkling with Leanne Altmann (Assistant Somm at Cutler & Co.) who was also volunteering at the event. Picture Scarlett Johannson and her ad for Moet e Chandon…opening a bottle of sparkling seems seamless, right?
Forget the old, unoriginal press shots of a featured winemaker holding his glass to his own schnoz ala:
Pfft! Yawn.
Nowadays you must compete in a much more interesting manner.