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If you happen to know the owner of this cute, red, vintage car can you let them know that 1. I *really* love their car and 2. I almost got hit by an oncoming bus whilst taking this photo?

Note to self: Best not to stand in the middle of a major intersection when next in Malta, no matter how cute the car is!

After the freakish hailstorms we experienced over the weekend, I think it's safe to say that summer has well and truly left us. That coupled by the fact that we are now in our warmer pyjamas of an evening and we had to turn the heating on this morning.

After I dropped the children off to school yesterday morning I began to hear stories of flash flooding and emergency evacuations from other parents. I soon realised that our measly leak was nothing but a mere trickle in contrast to some of the more ruinous stories. One school family with three young boys under six, have had to move out of there home indefinitely as their house has been severely damaged by the flash floods.

I must say it has not been the kindest of transitions, but rather an aggressive ripping away of what has been. Nevertheless, seeing that summer has all but departed from Melbourne, I thought I'd mark her passing with one of our favourite, yet simplest treats - fresh strawberries doused in rosewater served with some lemon ricotta cream.

We often have this for breakfast or as a mid afternoon snack or a light dessert in the evenings. Hence, the absence of plump, juicy strawberries are one of the things that Fussy truly laments about summers end - well that and the end of day light savings.

It's been a hilariously stressful weekend here in Melbourne. We've had freakish hailstorms and flash flooding that resulted in us having to spend the better part of the weekend mopping up the mess as our gutters couldn't keep up with the great amount of rain in such a short space of time.

Needless to say, our backyard was ravaged by humongous hails stones the size of golf balls, but thankfully I was able to salvage some of our treasured tomatoes.

To make matters worse, Stephen fell off the ladder yesterday mid repair and broke his foot, so we spent the better part of our Sunday afternoon at the Royal Melbourne Hospital's emergency department!

The upside to all our drama is that we are now waterproof, so if the heavens decide to open up on us again we can rest assured knowing that we are now safely ensconced in a warm, dry house once again.

One of the great things about living here in Melbourne is that we are surrounded by a rich and diverse food landscape. Hence, Melbourne has often been referred to as a 'melting pot' as the subsequent waves of immigration over the last century have contributed to the wonderful ethnic mix that exists in this city today.

In terms of food and more specifically ingredient sourcing, the surrounding  suburbs are like an eclectic larder that I can pick or choose from as both the need and inspiration arises. Thus, if I need to source Middle Eastern ingredients I need to look no further than Sydney road, Brunswick. If it's chicken soup and matzoh balls I'm hankering after, then I'll head down to Carlisle Street in Balaclava. Or if it's a bottle of Limoncello I'm after then I know that I need to head towards the general vicinity of Carlton.

And so last Saturday, Hoover and I jumped into the car and headed toward Lygon Street in search of that brilliant Italian scarlet liqueur called Alchermes. I was fortunate enough to find a bottle at King and Godfrey, which just so happened to be my first guess. So that gave Hoover and I some time to chill at Brunetti before heading back home to prepare and assemble our Zuppa Inglese.

I've been making Marcella's simple, yet exquisite tomato sauce for years, but never thought to blog about it until recently. You see I just so happened to mention on twitter that I was about to throw a tin of San Marzano tomatoes into a saucepan with an onion and a rather large amount of butter and was instantly inundated with recipe requests via my facebook page.

I naively assumed that you were all making your pasta sauce this way, because this is the *only* way to make tomato sauce, right? But I was soon to discover that some of you have yet to discover Marcella's sublime tomato sauce with onion and butter.

I kid you not, once you try this luxurious tomato sauce you'll probably never revert back to the garlic, olive oil and basil version that you were raised on. This dear reader is how tomato sauce ought to taste - pure, honest, sweet, rich and buttery.

One thing I will insist upon is that if you are going to make this sauce then do use San Marzano tomatoes. Sure you can use any old tinned tomatoes, but there is just something extraordinary about San Marzano tomatoes. Oh and if possible try and get your hands on some good organic butter and while you're at it why not grab some good quality sea salt too?

 

lf you walk from Marsalforn to Qbajjar all the way around to Xwieni Bay you'll eventually stumble across the famous salt pans. Turn around and look towards the cliff and there you'll find the green door.

My sister and I recently spent a lazy Sunday afternoon in Brunswick Street, Fitzroy. It was lovely to catch up and chill and have a decent, uninterrupted conversation minus our children! Oh and to drink wine mid-afternoon, how so very non-maternal and decadent is that?

Anyhow after hitting our usual haunts - Kleins Perfumery, Brunswick Street Bookstore, Flowers Vasette and Il Papiro we finally ended up at Mario's for coffee and cake. My sister insisted that I try some of the meringue, nut, and fruit torte thingy that she was having. Upon tasting the torte I then insisted that I needed just one more mouthful so to confirm that it was in fact *amazing*!

It was so incredible that I shamelessly hailed down the nearest unsuspecting waitress and enquired as to whether or not 'there were any eggs in the mix'? She stared back at me blankly, unaware of my surreptitious attempt to garner a list of ingredients so that I could replicate this little beauty at home at a later date.

 

After the terrifying earthquake that struck Haiti I too was left feeling overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of the tragedy. Soon after the disaster I read about a first-hand account over on Jeanne's blog of a qualified Boeing 747 pilot who had flown a relief flight to Haiti after the earthquake.

Rather than 'stand idly by as others suffered' Jeanne of Cook Sister and Between Hemispheres decided to organise her efforts and resources and is currently co-ordinating H2Ope for Haiti in conjunction with BloggerAid to raise funds for Concern Worldwide. Jeanne selected Concern Worldwide because of its long track record and quick response after the quake to provide clean drinking water and water purification tablets. This non-governmental international humanitarian organisation founded in 1968 works tirelessly in an attempt to reduce and eliminate extreme poverty in the world's poorest countries.

UN Photo/Logan Abass The United Nations
 

I was thrilled when I eventually stumbled across Anissa Helou's recipe for pistachio nut ice cream, because her recipe is one of the few that doesn't use almond essence. I have no idea why people insist on adding almond essence to pistachio ice cream, because in my opinion the sickly, synthetic almond flavour overwhelms the delicate flavour of the ice cream.

Anissa wisely uses rose water to subtly flavour the pistachio nut ice cream, which in turn gives it that authentic Middle Eastern edge. The only liberty I took was to add the faintest hint of green food colouring, so to make the pistachio nut ice cream all the more appealing to my incredibly fussy eight-year-old son.

I'm happy to report that he loved it!

In fact, he inhaled it!

During the Summer holidays Hoover was determined to learn how to knit. Both my mum and my sister knit, I on the other hand don't. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I haven't knitted in almost twenty-five years. I know it's a crying shame and my mum reminds me just how much of a crying shame it is every time Hoover asks me to show her how to knit, sew or crochet. So rather than continue to lament about my domestic failures I suggested to mum that maybe she should have Hoover over at the farm for a little nanna-grand-daughter-knitting-bonding time.

And so a couple of weekends ago Hoover had a sleepover at her Nanna and Nunnu's farm in Kyneton. It was a special time for my parents and Hoover as they all realised that with the advent of school impromptu visits and sleepovers at the farm will become less frequent. Mum made sure that the weekend was special in that she not only taught my girl how to knit (left handed I might add), but Hoover got to take home her very own pair of smilie face candy pink knitting needles and the beginnings of a very impressive scarf.