Travel: Foodie Tour of Hobart Curated by Cally Lyons of Rathmore House

Cally Lyons, who I am lucky to count as my second Tasmanian girlfriend, has a lot in common with Greg Ramsay, owner of Ratho Farm, who ‘hired’ me to come and cook pop-up dinners of American Southern Food at Australia’s oldest golf course in February and March. Beyond being charming, well-spoken, and delightfully cheeky, both of them are…

Recipe: Cornbread or Biscuits? Apricot Bread Pudding with Dewar’s Whisky Sauce

I’m going to take a short break from cataloguing the culinary foibles of my pop-up Mardi Gras Dinner at Ratho Farm to write about something that went mostly right that night, the dessert course, Cornbread or Biscuits? Apricot Bread Pudding with Dewar’s Whisky Sauce. The question of whether cornbread or biscuits was more quintessentially Southern came…

‘She’ll Be Alright, Mate:’ Catering Lessons from Heather and Izzy Part 1/2

It occurs to me that I shouldn’t let even one more blog post go by without introducing you to Heather Bickford, the Chef of Ratho Farm and one of the most delightful and food-knowledgeable people I’ve ever encountered. She’s charming, eccentric, has a beautiful family and has forgotten more about catering than you or I will ever know. Without…

Where in the World Is Ratho Farm? Part 2: The Road To Ouse

I’m calling this “Where in the World is Ratho Farm” Part Two, because my inaugural blog post gave the basic location, and that of Tasmania as well, since many Americans aren’t that swell at non-US geography. Dozens who I talked with on my Southern Food Road Tour about my trip didn’t know it’s an island off the southeast coast of…

Acute golf addiction and chasing Mardi Gras ingredients

I remember at some point believing that I would find time to house-make andouille sausage for this Saturday’s Mardi Gras event; the garlicky spiced and smoked pork sausages that many Cajun and Creole recipes rely on for flavor. That was almost certainly before I became hopelessly addicted to golf, a lifestyle change that has been molding my body…

Disgusted Cows and Happy Ducks

After breakfast, Greg took me on a tour of his menagerie, and he was particularly anxious to show me how wild the cows were for banana peels. They’ll come running, he said. And he was right that they looked eager. Except on this particular morning the coffee cream was off and had ended up in the compost…