Australians have the same habit some Latin Americans do: the overuse of diminutives. They call theirselves Aussies, and among sunnies (sunglasses), sickies (sick days), Chrissy (Christmas) and Tassy (Tasmania), they have barbies (barbecues). Just as much as we Peruvians love our cebichadas and anticuchadas, Aussies love their barbies.
As I wrote some days ago, our friend Julia went back to Germany. The family she had been living with in Sydney organised a farewell (guess what!) barbie on Saturday. She asked me to bring a salad, sausages and of course wine. The salad had red and green lettuce, roasted beetroot, cucumber, corn, avocado, coriander, lime and lemon juice.
The appetizers were a really yummy bean and tuna dip, pieces of baguette, Sakata crackers with seaweed and wasabi peas. Besides the merlot I brought (a really good and cheap South African one) there was Passion Pop. After the merlot was finished I had no other choice but to drink Passion Pop. I’ll try my best to avoid this situation in the future at any cost.
After a few hours of drinking, chatting and nibbling it was time for starting the barbecue. I don’t know how but I ended up covering the grilling duties because I just couldn’t keep myself away from food. The sausages were served to the kids in rolls (buns) with ketchup. We ate the zucchini, eggplant, mushroom, capsicum and chicken skewers that Julia had assembled. It was dark, so I had to use a flashlight to check if the chicken morsels were cooked. I hope all came out right.
Apart from the skewers and my salad we had a Mediterranean-style salad (lettuce, olives, feta cheese), baked potatoes and garlic bread. And to round it up, the beloved Aussie pavlova, prepared by our lovely host, with banana, passionfruit and mango, and a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side.
Hours fly when you’re having fun, and this was certainly the case. It was eleven something pm, and there was no chance of catching a bus at that time. So we walked 3 kilometers back home, not without stopping at Buzzzbar Cafe for more dessert. I know, I know, that’s why I’m getting fat again, but remember that all rehabbed people (alcoholics, for instance) never cease to be addicts, they are in a recovery process for life. My name is Gaby and I am a rehabbed dessert addict.
Anyway, if you ever happen to be on King Street, Newtown, craving for dessert, make no mistake and go straight to Buzzzbar Cafe. We have tasted a few and all have been marvelous. This time we had a baked cheesecake with one scoop of ice cream, and we ate it in five minutes because they were about to close. We’re pigs, I know.