THE CHEESEPEDITION BEGINS

I have a few 'mothers', and one of them is a good friend's mother who adopted me, so to speak, at around the age of 11. Like my actual mother, one of the ways this mother shows affection is by giving me stuff from time-to-time, like baby clothes, freebies from the canteen, bridal magazines (before I was actually engaged) and of course - being of the hospitable European variety of mothers - food.

In this lovely lady's house, once you've cleared your plate and you're asked if you want more food (which you inevitably will be), a reply of "I think I've had enough thanks" is interpreted as "yes please!", "no thank you" means "just a little more thanks", and a moment's hesitation means "give me more than I had before!" There isn't actually a way of saying no. When you truly can't eat another thing you have to just leave food on your plate.....................by golly, I think I just figured out the system. Hmm. Well, luckily, I thrived in that environment in my ravenous teenage years.

Among other things she's given me over the years is a particular book from when she ran the book club at school, a grotty but treasured little thing titled:

Sliced: The Book That Thinks it's a Pack of Cheese Slices

It's the size of a Kraft single and the front and back covers are shiny yellow plastic with a few strategically placed holes in them, and while it looks like a piece of junk, the book is fabulous. It has everything you want to know about cheese (and who isn't plagued by questions about cheese?). I say to people, "Ask me a question about cheese, go on, ask me, it'll be in here, ask me". And the answer is in there. Every time. If you see the book and me together, take the challenge. Ask me.

May The Book That Thinks it's a Pack of Cheese Slices be our guidebook on our Cheesepedition...

THANKS

I haven't quite got my food-related mojo back yet. I still have my queasy moments. The Greatest and Best Lasagne of All Time is not on the cards just yet.

But I have unequivocally improved over the last eight weeks, so much so that I actually feel human again! Not only have I been able to eat normally - I've been staying up past 9 o'clock! It's wonderful.

At this point, I would like to say thank you to the people who supported me so well when I was a miserable blob:


Thank you to my sisters-in-law who sent over various baby goodies and 'morning-sickness survival kits' to help cheer me up.

Thanks to my mums who brought around dinners, and to the friends who gave me nuts, nibblies, fruit, relaxing mixed CDs and other tokens to show they were thinking of me.

Thanks to the friends who patiently put up with the fact that I turned down just about every invitation I got for most of this year. I will be at your next parties with balloons and streamers and loads of expensive presents.

Thanks to the colleagues at work who, on several occasions, volunteered to cover classes and yard duties for me at the last minute so I could go home.

Thanks to the empathetic mothers who acknowledged how tough it is, and thanks to all the people who kept asking me how I was even though they were getting the same answer every time.

And of course, thank you to The Best Husband in the World, who did pretty much all the cooking, cleaning, shopping, listening, Puck-feeding and general wife-propping-up for approximately 5 months. (Me during the worst of it: "Maybe just having one kid is a possibility?" Husband: "Having one kid is absolutely a possibility").

I really appreciated all these things and I thank you all.

QUARTER-CENTURY FESTIVITIES

Another year has passed me by...

That sounds depressing. Start again.

Another year has fulfilled its destiny, ripening through the tumult and the joys of its four God-given seasons until, in a flash of light, a twinkling of an eye, in the laugh of a child it has farewelled the Earth and joined its predecessors in the treasury of the past, while a new dawn bursts forth in a blaze of glory, filled with new hope, new dreams and new beginnings...

It was my birthday.

I've never had a whopping big party, and it's probably something to do with the fact that the following scenario occurs right before my annual excuse to eat decadent food with a group of my favourite people:



Husband: "You ready to go?"

Me: "Ummm............... I think I might just stay home".

Husband: "Hmm?"

Me: "I might just not go. It's probably best if we just cancel it, you know..."

Husband: "Oh. Yeah. Of course. We'll just cancel it then, yeah?"

Me: "Yeah."

Husband: "Get in the car".



Of course, from the moment I see the first lovely smiling face appear I'm having a ball.

After making a dinner booking at the Crown of India, we were told on confirming the night before that we had to do a set menu for groups over 10. Fair enough, fair enough, but I didn't think it would be very considerate informing everyone on arrival that they would be paying for a set banquet whether they liked it or not. The only other Indian restaurant in Werribee? Trusty ol' East-meets-West, friendly-with-the-owner, they-know-our-usual, Indian Roast (I initially chose the Crown of India because the restaurant set-up seems more party-friendly). So I thought I'd ring the Roast just to check out the possibilities.

We haven't been to the Roast in about a year, and the conversation I had with the owner on the phone, went something like this:



Me: "Hi, my name's Julie and I just have a couple of questions about group bookings..."

Indian Roast owner: "Ah, Julie, you come here sometimes, yes?"

Me: "Uh, yes, I do..."

Indian Roast owner: "Yes, we have not seen you in a long time!"

Me: "........I would like to book in a group for tomorrow night please."



Customer service people, you can't beat it.


Some lovely people who know what I like gave me this:


It was one of those things you look at in the stores and touch and stuff, but you think it would be over-the-top to buy it for yourself and you never even tell anyone you want it and then someone gives it to you. The best. A cousin for my Women's Weekly Cook.


Also the best is waking up for work on your birthday and finding the heater is already on and you come out and there are hot Sausage and Egg McMuffins waiting for you at the table and there are big, colourful, phallic caterpillar balloons with toothy grins sitting on the chairs all around the table. (Husband: 'It's your party!'). Best husband.

So yes, I had a great time like always (and to those who left my place in the early hours after I was snoring away on a beanbag, I apologise).

MANY'S THE LONG NIGHT I'VE DREAMED OF CHEESE...

When I got pregnant, rumours about certain things you couldn't eat while pregnant sprung to mind. I researched immediately, and discovered these rumours to be true, but beyond my wildest fears::

Avoid:

• Cold chicken or meat
• Processed/sliced deli meat (eg. ham, salami, cabana)
  
• Pre-prepared salads eg. coleslaw
• Unwashed raw fruit & vegetables
• Raw meat or seafood
• Non-pasteurised milk or milk products
  
• Soft cheeses eg. Brie, Camembert, ricotta, feta, blue
  
• Deli foods eg. that sit in open containers
• Soft-serve ice cream or yoghurt
• Oysters
• Smoked fish
• Smoked mussels
• Sushi
• Raw or partially cooked eggs (eg. hollandaise, Caesar dressing, runny eggs, cookie dough)
• Peanuts
• Leftovers older than 12 hours
• Pate
• Foods not heated all the way through
• Alcohol
  

Limit or Avoid:

• Caffeine (tea, coffee, cola, chocolate)
• Fish with high levels of Vitamin A eg. orange roughy, catfish, shark, ling, billfish, marlin, swordfish, ray, barramundi, gemfish, southern bluefin tuna, king mackeral and tilefish.

There are a number of (good) reasons why the pregnancy police have compiled this list:


1) Pregnant people are more susceptible than non-pregnant people to listeria, a bacteria which can thrive in some of these foods and can cause illness if passed onto an unborn baby.

2) Too much Vitamin A has been known to cause birth defects.

3) A baby can't metabolise caffeine the way an adult can.

4) Raw eggs may contain salmonella.

5) Avoiding peanuts supposedly makes your child less prone to a peanut allergy.


Obviously back in the day before these guidelines were around, pregnant women ate whatever they wanted and most survived just fine. They're not The Pregnancy Rules, just precautions. And some of the foods are ok if you cook them thoroughly first to kill bacteria.

When I first compiled the list and decided to follow the precautions, my biggest concern was cheese. If I had a favourite food, it would probably be something like cheese, but I don't have a favourite food. It's not that I don't want to have a favourite, not at all. Not like teachers, who never have favourites anyway because that would be completely unprofessional and wrong and impossible anyway due to a specially-bestowed divine quality that allows us to rise above the humanity of everyone else pass me another drink please.

No, it's not that I don't want to, it's just that there's too much food out there to be able to single out one as The Best. And food is so diverse, how do you compare, say, beef stroganoff to a lemon meringue pie? You can't, and it's silly to try since you just end up distressed.

So now that my food-love has been gradually returning, I've been missing my runny poached eggs. I miss the hollandaise sauce too, and the school canteen's homemade sushi on Thursdays, and I miss cappuccinos and seafood and pudding mix and Elle's banana smoothies from Highpoint... but most of all...

I miss the cheese.

Well, if I can't eat it, at least I can talk about it. It's time to embark on a journey of discovery - begin the Cheesepedition!

(Sorry, it was that or Cheesegrimage.)