Pamela Faye: Eating in a North Westerly Direction

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ETD 7 days…

As the day of my departure looms closer, signs of pre-trip anxiety are beginning to leak out of me and forebode a chaotic week ahead. As if irrational dreams and inexplicable tears are not enough, this morning I put my expensive Italian stove-top coffee maker in the microwave (instead of on the stove top where it rightly belongs). I zapped it on high for at least a minute before I realised what I had done. Amazingly only the plastic knob suffered, now resembling a charcoalled marshmallow.

The plums are rotting on the tree and the yard is beginning to smell like cheap Spanish wine. No time to jam myself (!), so I salvaged what I could and took them over to Mother to deal with.

Family farewell lunch today, during which I ate enough carbs to see me through to Alice Springs. This blog could be over before it even began. My contribution to lunch was a bakers dozen of some banana walnut muffins (no maple today, feeling a bit povo). They’ve come out rather nicely – good to know that even when all else goes to shit my muffins still rise to the occasion. Mother’s chocolate cake was delicious, if a little wobbly. And yes, those are Ken Done place mats…

(Click photos to embiggen)

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17 thoughts on “Pamela Faye: Eating in a North Westerly Direction

  1. Pingback: Introducing Pamela Faye — Progressive Dinner Party

  2. And don’t we all feel sorry for the overdesigned coffee pot? Like dogs, they know when a trip is being planned. They start to feel nervous. Their plastic parts soften. They know they will soon be placed on an open fire. They know their plastic parts are doomed. At least this one has had its revenge on the microwave, which has probably come off worst in the encounter. Don’t they die if you put metal in them?

    • Dr Sista, “Nic” [I’m deeply suspicious of Nicolases who abbreviate and leave off the K” but in this case will suspend judgement], Zoe, Nigel and Ann – kisses to all of you for breaking me in to the blog.

      BTW, don’t waste your pity on the coffee machine – she’s staying behind to keep the Flatfriend company. Will be taking plunger and awethentic PNG organic coffee straight from a reliable source (a mid-wife friend recently spent six weeks volunteering in Gorok – mostly ate yams, so she tells me).

  3. I heard last week that a ‘nameless’ non-indigenous employee in one of the communities near Pamela Faye’s destination was shocked when, after leaving a bunch of newborn puppies for the weekend, they returned to find that they had been cooked and eaten by the locals. Said employee went into meltdown. Welcome to the desert.

    On that culinary note, looking forward to some charry tales/tails from our intrepid foodie…

  4. reminds me of Vietnam … while I was over there a fellow traveller mused that they had been all through South America eating what was described on menus as ‘meat’. They thought, kind of naturally if you are Irish, that meant beef. Only after some weeks did they realise they hadn’t actually seen any cows.

  5. Hi Pam. Happy travels, and happy outback cooking. My favourite travelling culinary delight is a tin of tuna mixed with a tin of sweet corn. Preparation time: 10 seconds. Eating time: 3 minutes. Clean-up time: 5 seconds (lick the fork clean and put the empty tins in the rubbish bag. How’s that for efficiency? Ian

  6. My travel/food advice, for what it is worth:
    If you have just got off the bus at 6.55pm in Rosslare, Ireland, and you have realised that if you go to the youth hostel first the supermarket the bus has stopped outside of will be closed and you might not get to eat until breakfast because it is a small town and it looks like everything else is closed, and if you go into the supermarket, do not buy the “meat pie in a tin”. The look of the pie may be enticing, especially the pie-shaped tin, but don’t do it. If you do, when you get to the hostel you will realise that the kitchen does not have an oven and you will resort to scraping the contents of the tin into a pot and warming it up on a hotplate. And it will taste like dog vomit.
    PS – When you first leave the supermarket, if three teenage Rosslare locals ask you if you have any hash, tell them “no”.

  7. Pingback: Pamela is eating in a north westerly direction | Progressive Dinner Party

  8. Pingback: Pamela has made it to Adelaide | Progressive Dinner Party

  9. Pingback: Pamela Faye has reached the (unb)eaten track – Tjukurla Community | Progressive Dinner Party

  10. Pingback: Pamela’s eating Creamed Corn and Charcoaled Lizards | Progressive Dinner Party

  11. Pingback: Pamela’s Eating Tails | Progressive Dinner Party

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