My man and I dipped strawberries in chocolate and made pear crumble from the tree so heavily laden in the driveway the pears kiss the ground and gently fall off when ready for us to eat. We poached them slowly in sugar syrup, cinnamon, star anise and cloves - to be later covered in crunchy crumble topping. We put together a cheese plate piled with Danish blue, a King Island brie rolle, Havarti, creamy goats milk feta, brandy & sage pâté, spicy salami and slices of nectarines (from a friend’s tree still fruiting). The smoky buffalo cheddar didn’t quite make the plate as we ate it while cooking....
Everyone arrived at the river with baskets of goodies, (literally a laundry basket – we haven’t quite got the ensemble perfect) pretty tablecloths and bottles of bubbly, in their Sunday finery. So many frocks and girly hats, even my chap looked dapper in his hat (tried to get him in a frock but alas not this time). We chatted, kissed cheeks, clinked glasses and ate slowly, enjoying our feasting and knowing how fortunate we are. The kids ran around in their Sunday finery, scampering up the canons, running through the bush tracks and generally being kids (happy to say that not a DS was in sight!).
As we sat by the water’s edge, the kids cast a line in and we enjoyed the afternoon sun’s rays... but even the fish were too full it seemed, not a single bite. The kids queued up for pear crumble with vanilla ice cream and cream (got to have both I think!), devoured it and lined up for more.
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