Ransom

I was motivated to read Ransom by David Malouf as it features on the ABC's list of Aussie Books to Read Before You Die.  As a part of Australia's National Year of Reading, readers have the opportunity to browse and vote for their 3 favourite books that they believe should form part of the top 10 list.   

What surprises me most about the list is that although it features great Australian authors it doesn't fairly represent great Australian stories.  I find myself snagged between a rock and a hard place because my favourite stories within the list of choices are not Australian.  What to do?  

VOTE FOR TIM WINTON'S 'THE RIDERS' FOR ONE!  
AT LEAST THE PROTAGONIST IS AN AUSSIE!

But back to David Malouf's, Ransom . . .  I would like to preface this review by stating emphatically that I think that David Malouf is a bloody legend!  AND that belief stems from a piece that he wrote for Quarterly Essays, entitled The Happy Life: The Search for Contentment in the Modern World.

So it was, that I took on my first Malouf novel.  I was happy to dive into its pages as the Classics and Western Canon Group on GoodReads have spent the better part of 2012 reading and discussing The Iliad.

I was not brave enough to participate in the reading or discussion and figured that Ransom, would be a gentle introduction to the great story of the Trojan War.  Because . . . Let's face it . . .  My exposure to the story thus far was limited to Monty Python and the Holy Grail and the Brad Pitt / Eric Bana film, Troy which was a pile of donkey dung!

Ransom is an 'imagined' account of the King of Troy's attempt to ransom the body of his defeated, slaughtered and desecrated son, Hector.  GoodReads does a better job of relating the book's contents than I can ever do, so I shall hand you over . . .

"Ransom by David Malouf, is a novel of suffering, sorrow, and redemption. 'Ransom' tells the story of the relationship between two grieving men at war: fierce Achilles, who has lost his beloved Patroclus in the siege of Troy; and Priam, king of Troy, whose son Hector killed Patroclus and was in turn savaged by Achilles. Each man's grief demands a confrontation with the other's if it is to be resolved: a resolution more compelling to both than the demands of war. And when the aged father and the murderer of his son meet, "the past and present blend, enemies exchange places, hatred turns to understanding, youth pities age mourning youth."


From Malouf's style, it is easy to see that he is a published poet.  His prose is lovely and I am willing to bet that most blokes {and ladies} who love a bit of fictional warfare will struggle and be left wanting.  This story is 3-Dimensional with scratch-and-sniff text.  I was there.  I was meandering in the countryside as Priam made his way to confront Achilles.   It is beautiful!  I can't wait to read more by David Malouf.

Provençal Tart

It's a Saturday night {Sunday night equivalent} and I am committed to cooking a recipe from The Food of France . . .

Ready. Set. COOK!  Oh, it's 6pm and I've got to get this tart on the table.  Nevermind that we usually eat at 6.30ish.  Ok, quick scan of the recipe, trusting that I have all of the necessary ingredients . . . and . . . BLAST and DAMNATION!  Total prep and cooking time is approximately 3 hours!  

I remove a tin of Baked Beans from the pantry, decant and bubble for approximately 5 minutes.  Meanwhile, I retrieve some frozen slices of bread and plop them unceremoniously into the toaster and push the lever down, down, down.  Pop!  I butter the toast, spoon out the beans and present my 'by-the-camp-fire' stand-by to the Mr. He is not amused!

It's Sunday {Monday equivalent} and I've just walked through the door after a day of teaching at Zee German School.  I march straight into the kitchen and begin to prepare a short-crust pastry dough.  I bundle it into the fridge and begin to sauté a finely chopped white onion.  Knowing better, I score a cross on 10 deliciously ripe tomatoes and drop them into a pot of boiling water for about 20 seconds.  Having peeled the skins away, and chopped the tomatoes, I realise that opening a tin would have been preferable to this hullabaloo!  I make a quick note on the recipe, 'Use Tinned Tomatoes!'

I add the tomatoes, tomato purée, garlic and oregano to the sautéed onions, to simmer for 20 minutes.  

I remove the pastry from the fridge and I roll, rather clumsily into a rectangle befitting my baking tray.  I attempt to loosely wrap the rolled result back over my rolling pin {a perfect cylindrical, 375ml bottle of Brown Brothers Orange Muscat and Flora} to lay upon the baking tray.  To put it mildly, I suck at this, but I am not the least bit deterred, as I know that I can plug any rips and gaps with excess pastry.

I cover the pastry with clingwrap and chill it for a further 30 minutes.  I give my tomato sauce a quick stir and with the oven set to 200C I place two, halved peppers, under the grill until their skin blackens and blisters.

Once the peppers have cooled, I peel away the skins and cut into thin strips.  I line the pastry shell with baking paper and dried beans, to blind bake for 10 minutes. I have finally reached the stage where I can assemble the tart and it a quarter to 6 in the afternoon!  In that case, I have time to take a quick self-portrait.  Why type a smiley face when I can be the smiley face . . .

I spread the tomato sauce over the pastry, then scatter with peppers.  I arrange the anchovies and olives over the top and spray {did she say spray?!?} with olive oil.  10 minutes in, and I realise that I have left the grill at the top of the oven, ON!  Regardless, all goes well and we are sitting down to a glass of wine and a large slice of Provençal Tart after 25 minutes.

It's 6.30pm on a Sunday evening {Monday evening equivalent} and I'm feeling proud that the working week has kicked off with a bang!  Sure, I'm not getting through my cook book at the speed I had originally committed to, but life is grand and I'm learning new things while our bellies are full and our hearts contented.