This Week's Photohunt is in the Bag

This week's photohunt theme is bag.

This little joey may look comfortable in his bag, but he is probably missing mom, who was the victim of a reckless driver.  Each year thousands of kangaroos and wallabies are killed by cars.  Some of the victims are mothers, whose joeys--hidden the pouch-- survive the accident.  Without human intervention the little animals would die.  This guy was rescued on Kangaroo Island by Bev Turner at Emu Ridge Eucalyptus Distillery.

If you are driving in Australia and unfortunate enough to hit a kangaroo or wallaby the Kangaroo Protection Coalition suggest the doing following:

Watch for oncoming traffic, your personal safety is most important.

1.  Check if the Kangaroo/Wallaby is still alive/dead.

2. If the Kangaroo/Wallaby is alive and injured, cover its face with a towel to quieten it. Gently place the Kangaroo/Wallaby in a hessian bay with a tie and place in the boot of your car. Take the Kangaroo/Wallaby immediately to the nearest Vet. If after hours, try the local newspaper, they usually have a wildlife carers contact details. there are moves afoot to get funding for a National freecall number.

3.  If the Kangaroo/Wallaby is dead - remove the body from the road. Raptors come to the road to feed off the carcase, and are often killed themselves.

4. Check if it is a male/female.

5. If it is a female, check the pouch for a joey.

6. If a joey is present - check if it is furred or pink (no fur).

7. If furred - remove from the pouch and place in an artificial pouch or wrap in a T-shirt or other soft cloth.

8. If pink (no fur) - check if the teat is in the mouth. DO NOT PULL OFF THE TEAT as the palette is removed and death is a certainty. 9. Place a safely pin through the base of the teat so the joey can't swallow it, and cut the teat off. The teat will drop out of the joey's mouth after a few hours.

10. Remove the joey from the pouch and place in an artificial pouch (from kit) or wrap in a soft cloth.

11. Place inside your own shirt, next to your body for warmth until you get home.

12. At home, place the joey next to a hot water bottle or a plastic drink bottle filled with hot water that has been wrapped well in a towel. The joey needs to be kept warm (not too hot or allowed to go cold) awayfrom any loud noises.

13. Ring your State Govt. Department dealing with wildlife and ask them to refer you to your nearest wildlife organisation or experienced carer.

Look at that Birdie in a Tutu

Our first trek in the "real" Australian bush, and by real I mean more than 10 km from Adelaide, was just over a year ago.

We headed up to the Southern Flinders Ranges.  I had a fitful night of sleep, nightmares of huge aggressive Emus chasing me down the track kept me tossing and turning.  When I described my dream to Mark, he didn't roll his eyes, but I could tell what he was thinking: "This is going to be a great day on the trail, she is going to jump at every little thing that moves."

We left Melrose, home to 2,000 people and a caravan park, and we weren't 5 kms away when we saw our first wild emu.  As we stopped the car all I could say was "Crap, they are larger in life."  I hoped this wasn't an omen of what was to come.

We reached Mt. Remarkable National Park and eagerly hit the trail.  The towering red cliffs of Alligator Gorge were awe-inspiring, with its rough and rugged walls.  As we left the sheltered gorge and headed out to the wider basin of the deep valley, Mark stopped to take off his jacket.  As I passed him he quietly chuckled.  I couldn't have been two minutes down the track when crashing out of the bush came two emus.  My first reaction was to scream, but all that escaped my lips was a hysterical laugh.  The two bumbling ballerinas, with their tutus swaying side to side, frantically raced down the track away from me.  Their awkward gait,  clumsy movements, and disproportionate body size in relation to knobby kneed, skinny legs, made me feel as though I had just come upon two large, fictional Muppet Characters rather than real live birds.   Large splashes of fresh liquid scat dropped on trail left no doubt that they were very real.

Emew

The emu, pronounced \ˈē-(ˌ)myü, -mü\ is native only in Australia, and is the second largest bird in the world after the ostrich.  They can grow between 1.5 to 2 meters in height and weigh up to 60 kg.  The large bird had an elongated neck and legs, but its wings are rather short. Hence they are unable to fly, but are able to run at relatively high speeds--in times of duress they can reach speeds of up to 50 km an hour.  Each foot has three forward facing toes.

Emu Footpring

Emus are nomadic and roam the countryside looking for food: fruits, seeds, growing shoots of plants, insects, or other small animals and animal droppings.  Normally they are solitary creatures, but they may live in flocks or pairs when there is a lack of food.

Mob Emus

Mouldy Bottom or Loose Leaf?

Last week, when I was at the grocery store groping the pineapples an older gentleman came up to me and said "I heard that you look at the bottom and the one that has the most mould will be perfect."  I skipped his advice and went with what I had read in Cooks Illustrated Magazine.  I gently pulled a leaf, it effortlessly came out, and that was my choice.  
For those of you who are not familiar with Cooks Illustrated, all I can say is that it is my cooking bible.  At least it has been for the last 6 years, since I left all of my cookbooks in storage.  I have come to rely on CI not only for recipes but also for its' tips and reviews.  I love the section on Food Science.  Another great thing about CI is that it is available on-line.  No matter where I go present and past issues at my fingertips.  If you aren't familiar with it check it out and let me know what you think.
Since it helped me pick the perfect pineapple, I decided to give its' Pineapple Upside Down Cake a try, and it was lovely.

PINEAPPLE UPSIDE-DOWN CAKE
One 9-inch cake, serving 8 to 10.   Published September 1, 2004.

For this recipe, we prefer to use a 9-inch cake pan with sides that are at least 2 inches high. Alternatively, a 10-inch ovensafe skillet (cast iron or stainless steel) can be used to both cook the pineapple and bake the cake. If using a skillet instead of a cake pan, cool the juices directly in the skillet while making the batter; it's OK if the skillet is warm when the batter is added.

INGREDIENTS
Pineapple Topping
1 medium fresh pineapple  (about 4 cups prepared fruit)
1 cup firmly packed light brown sugar (7 ounces)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Cake
1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour (7 1/2 ounces)
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon table salt
8 tablespoons unsalted butter (1 stick), softened but still cool
3/4 cup granulated sugar (5 1/4 ounces)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs at room temperature
1 egg white at room temperature
1/3 cup whole milk at room temperature


INSTRUCTIONS

1. Lightly spray 9-inch round, 2-inch deep cake pan with nonstick cooking spray; set aside.

2. For the pineapple topping: Combine pineapple and brown sugar in 10-inch skillet; cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally during first 5 minutes, until pineapple is translucent and has light brown hue, 15 to 18 minutes. Empty fruit and juices into mesh strainer or colander set over medium bowl. Return juices to skillet, leaving pineapple in strainer (you should have about 2 cups cooked fruit). Simmer juices over medium heat until thickened, beginning to darken, and mixture forms large bubbles, 6 to 8 minutes, adding any more juices released by fruit to skillet after about 4 minutes. Off heat, whisk in butter and vanilla; pour caramel mixture into prepared cake pan. Set aside while preparing cake. (Pineapple will continue to release liquid as it sits; do not add this liquid to already-reduced juice mixture.)

3. For the cake: Adjust oven rack to lower-middle position and heat oven to 350 degrees. Whisk flour, baking powder, and salt in medium bowl; set aside.

4. In bowl of standing mixer fitted with flat beater, cream butter and sugar at medium-high speed until light and fluffy, 3 to 4 minutes. Reduce speed to medium, add vanilla, and beat to combine; one at a time, add whole eggs then egg white, beating well and scraping down bowl after each addition. Reduce speed to low; add about one-third of flour mixture and beat until incorporated. Add half of milk and beat until incorporated; repeat, adding half of remaining flour mixture and remaining milk, and finish with remaining flour. Give final stir with rubber spatula, scraping bottom and sides of bowl to ensure that batter is combined. Batter will be thick.

5. To bake: Working quickly, distribute cooked pineapple in cake pan in even layer, gently pressing fruit into caramel. Using rubber spatula, drop mounds of batter over fruit, then spread batter over fruit and to sides of pan. Tap pan lightly against work surface to release any air bubbles. Bake until cake is golden brown and toothpick inserted into center of cake comes out clean, 45 to 50 minutes. Cool 10 minutes on wire rack, then place inverted serving platter over cake pan. Invert cake pan and platter together; lift off cake pan. Cool to room temperature, about 2 hours; then cut into pieces and serve.

QUIQUIRIQUÍ.....

It seems like every “foreign” experience has a rooster story, and of course my time in Utrera included it’s own.

It was an early spring morning.  The sun was just peeking over the horizon when all of a sudden a rooster began to crow.  I would have probably slept through it, after all it was no louder than some of the drunks that stumbled through the plaza on their way home at 5am, but I could have sworn that this cock was on our roof. I knew this couldn’t be since Chiva, who caught pigeons and bats mid air, lived upstairs.  There was no way she would share her space with a feathered friend. It couldn’t be next door on the left since we shared a wall with the downtown branch of the BBVA (a Spanish Bank), and I couldn't imagine our proper neighbors on the right having a pet rooster--but then again, you never know.  To my relief after the rooster let out a few more crows, I was able to roll over and fall asleep.

I didn’t think about it until the next day when, at the crack of dawn, once again I was awakened by a cock-a-doodle-doo.  But wait, this time the sound seemed a bit further away and a little to the east.  Unfortunately, when the early morning serenade ended, I was unable to fall back asleep.  So when my 10 am Pilates class rolled around I arrived a bit cranky.

I asked the class if anyone knew, who in downtown Utrera, had the new pet rooster.  They all told me that I was crazy, because no one who lived in a downtown home would own a rooster and, besides, none of them had heard it.  I argued that I have heard of stranger animals being taken on as pets, and of course they wouldn’t hear it since they all slept with their windows and shutters drawn--besides, nothing could wake them at the crack of dawn since they had just gone to bed at 3 am!!!  My argument didn’t change the fact that the class continued to consider me the Loca Americana, who was now imagining that she heard farm animals in town.

Later that afternoon when returning to our flat from the eastern part of the pueblo, I cut down the little cobblestone street where the three little triplets lived.  I never knew the family’s name, or the name of the street, but whenever I talked about the street where the triplets live everyone knew who and where I was talking about.  As I walked by the gate that lead to their indoor patio I suddenly heard a cock-a-doodle-doo.  I should have guessed; it was these three little terrors that owned the new pet.  At least the mystery was solved, and I would be able to save face at Pilates.

But wait, bright and early the next morning, out to the west my morning serenade began.  How could this be, I knew he was living at the triplets house to the east.  I was dying to figure this out, so I called Mari-Carmen.  She lived in the direction from which the roosters’ song came, and asked her if she had heard anything.  She said that that morning she had heard it for the first time, but that she would figure out what was going on.  If there was anyone who could figure out this mystery it was Mari-Carmen, as she seemed to know everyone and everything that went on in Utrera.

I waited and waited to hear from Mari-Carmen, but she never got back to me.  She probably had more important things to deal with and than an American wanting to know about a loose cock.  Besides, there was nothing we could do about it.

I would continue to hear the rooster each morning, but the sound continued to shift.  Mark, being the engineer that he is, tried to convince me that it was the echo and wind that made it sound like it was changing directions.  What did he know, he was always snoring right through the wake up call.  Of course, I eventually grew accustomed to the noise, and it stopped waking me up, that or maybe it even went away.

Then several weeks later I was in the check out line at the small local grocery store.  As was typical, the cashier was gossiping about life in Utrera.  Suddenly she started talking  to the lady in front of me.  “You know Ana, right?  Ana Jimenez, the one whose father owns the small farm that is located behind bar on the road to Molares.  Well, last month after a Sunday afternoon in the campo, her father sent her home with a rooster to make some stew.  When she took it up to the roof of her piso to ring its' neck, it escaped and has been flying around from roof top to roof top for the last month and no one can catch it.”

Had I heard this story several months earlier, I would have rolled my eyes, and chalked it up as Urban Legend.  But for me, it solved the mystery regarding the roaming rooster crow sound waves.  I just hoped that the bird would eventually make its way to our roof so that Chiva could permanently turn off the early morning alarm clock.

Mighty Murray River

We decided on a small part of the mighty Murray River, that we had yet to explore, as our weekend camping destination.

Mark's colleges laughter followed by "You are going where?" and rumors that the river was running dry had planted a seed of doubt and I questioned if we had made the right choice.  Mark remained confident in our selection, but I was beginning to have qualms as we once again hit the road.

Our journey took us from the sea breezes to an oppressive inland heat. The bitumen that had taken us from the green gardens of Adelaide, through the orchards (citrus, olive, and grape) of the River Lands, was far behind us.  We now crossed a dry and dusty track, and once again I felt doubt begin to rise.

Suddenly the leafless and lifeless plants of the dry escarpment were replaced by low lying shrubs.  These dry land plants--tea tree, hop bush, and murray pines--were showing the benefits of the recent rains.  Among the dry branches, new tender green shoots could be detected.  As we approached the river's flood plain we found ourselves in a forest of giant red and black gum trees.  Their towering canopy provided relief from the brutal sun.

Numbered campsites appeared on the riverside of the road.  To our dismay each one was already occupied.  According to the map, we had one option left, and we kept our fingers crossed as we continued down the road.  As we turned the final bend we let out a sigh of relief when we saw that the site was empty.

As I climbed out of the car and examined the Murray River any fears of disappointment were washed away.  I knew that the idyllic setting would provide nothing but pleasure.

A Little Game

By looking at the above picture can you tell what this butcher, at the Adelaide Central Market, specializes in?  Maybe Skippy there in the corner will give you a hint.  Yep, that's right.  This stall sells kangaroo--mince, steaks, sausages, roasts, legs, and fillets.

I have yet to try the deep purple 'roo meat, but I have had several people tell me that it is very tasty and tender.  It is supposed to be good for you because not only is it high in protein and iron, but is also low in fat.

When I fist arrived in Australia, I was prepared to give kangaroo meat a try, or at least I was until I learned that all kangaroo meat comes from free ranging wild animals.   It isn't that I am against eating game; in fact, I support commercial kangaroo harvesting to control local populations.  I also feel that these native animals have less impact on the environment than cows and sheep.  However, every time I take a picture of a cute little guy, I worry that he may be one of my future meals!

It's funny, I never had that same feeling as I hiked across the pig farms of Aracena.  When I looked at the pigs, all I could see was a big plate of jamon serrano.  

This week's photohunt all tied up...

This week's theme is tied.

From the late 1800's to the 1920's wood stave pipes, wooden slates tied together by galvanized steel, were used to transport water and sewage.  In the early 1900's the pipe in this picture was part of a pipeline that carried water from the Barossa Reservoir to the nearby town of Gawler.  The pipe can be seen at the outdoor Water Works Museum at the Barossa Reservoir.