A simple man's supper

   Ever have a day when, after running a jillion errands and realizing the to-do list just isn't getting smaller, you just want to go home? And just stay there.  Relaxation in your favorite chair is your refuge.  I was like that today.  Walking into the supermarket -- for the second time because I forgot the urgently needed toilet paper the first four times I walked into a store-- I spotted a store bakery worker with many batards in a baker's trolley near a display table.  She was bagging them as fast as she could to an advancing crowd of customers.
   In a heartbeat I was transported back to Korea.  If I was late returning home from my morning classes I would stop in at the bakery in my alley.  The baguettes would be coming out of the oven. Hot, yummy baguettes. Normally I would only get one of her narrow, 15-inch loaves as I am not a big bread eater.  But if they were hot, and she would make me wait a few seconds to be sure I got one just out of the oven, I bought two. I would then race home and eat one right away. As fast as I could tear a piece off and put a dab of butter on it.  Not just delicious but soul anchoring goodness. Feeding not just a body but a psyche. Like being warmed by your own personal ray of sunshine with a rainbow chaser.
   Back to Coles.  I race walked to the baker trolley. The batards- 11 inches long and maybe three inches wide-  are very hot. A buck a piece.  I'll take two! She gets them into a bag and I race to get the t.p. (was this really that urgent?) pay and race home. Broke speed limits and chased pokey women to the curb. I didn't unload the car, just the important stuff. Bread still hot. Grab some butter. Tear the bread. A thin shave  of butter on top...the whole thing melts in your mouth.
   I could have wept.
   A few more bites. Are my hands shaking? Then I remember I have triple-cream Brie from Tasmania (at a huge discount,of course). The bread has cooled to merely warm. The brie, spread only slightly thicker than the butter, works very well.  The heels of the batard never got cold or I might have slowed down enough to cut up an apple.  Mom says that bread, cheese and apple is a "simple man's supper"  although how simple can a person be if she is eating an oven-hot batard (or baguette) and triple-cream brie? But how can a person be so homesick and so at home at the same moment?
   The second loaf has now thoroughly cooled.        Kev can have it.

Oh, it's the Cheese Lady...again.

I've mentioned before about the lamentable state of dairy products on offer here in OZ. These poor blighters sink their teeth into puce-colored rubber because the package says it is cheese. The type? Tasty. You know, like Gouda, Havarti, Swiss or Cheddar--Tasty. I am here to tell you that it is neither cheese nor tasty. One bite into this nasty stuff will send you into raptures of swimming in vats of warm Velveeta. And loving it.

So what is a gal to do on the odd occasion where she just cannot live without real cheese? Well, there is the gourmet food section of the toney department store, David Jones. They have real cheese with prices up to $123/kilo (just under $60 a pound.) The local grocery stores, Woolworth's & Coles, do have Brie and Camembert available and the King Island brand is my preferred brand. King Island is a little speck in the Bass Strait just northwest of the island state of Tasmania. The air and water there are said to be the purest in OZ. Which makes the beef legendary (probably because no one can buy it anywhere) and its cheeses prize winning. While not costing a king's ransom, it is still too dear for our budget--at regular retail.

I have taken to trolling the dairy aisle checking for expiration dates. I pick out cheeses that have long been expired but not plucked from the shelves with my left hand and in my right hand pick up the King Island packets due that day. I find the person in charge of dairy and hand them the out-of-dates with a most sympathetic look. Unfortunately for retailers, it is not legal in this state to sell past-date dairy products. Such a waste, tsk tsk. And then I present them with my now-or-never beauties for a price reduction. "I would be happy to save you from throwing this away in a mere few hours if you mark it down appropriately, say, to one dollar?" And so the 250 gram, $9.95 round of cheese is mine for a buck. This works quite well at my local Coles. In fact, most of the dairy case folks now know what I will propose even before I open my mouth. Saves energy all the way around.

Woolworth's is a slightly tougher nut to crack, especially for so ...reasonable...a discount. Recently, I spotted an empty shelf where eggs had been on sale for $1.99 instead of their usual $4-5 per dozen. "Oh, how disappointing. Gee, Grant, do you think a substitution can be made?", I ask the stock clerk. This is an unheard of concept in this country--making a substitution for a sale product that has run out. However, Grant didn't laugh. He recognized me. He looked for a similar product: XL, grain fed, dozen. "This expires at the end of this month, will that be OK for you?", he asks earnestly. I think so and he replaces the $4.69 price tag with one that says $1.88.

Now, I know many people who are very adverse to the idea of buying food so close to expiration date. Indeed, there are comestibles that I would not even consider purchasing with very little life left in them. But ripe cheese just gets riper, eggs are stored in warehouses for months before they make it to the store shelves (fresh eggs will not hard boil in under 20 minutes, as a matter of fact) and even bottled water has a legally-mandated expiration date. So I buy with confidence and consume in good time.

And enjoy my reputation.