Author: Veronica

  • Showcase Tasmania: Grandvewe Cheese

    It’s no secret that I am a huge fan of cheese, any which way I can get it. I prefer the slightly more expensive cheeses however, and when you’re on a tight budget, cheese falls off the list really quickly. It’s unfortunate that way.

    As big a fan of cheese as I am, I’ve come late to the game with sheeps milk cheese, only tasting it for the first time when I was at MoVida with Kathy and Mum. I was a little dubious, knowing that I dislike the overtly strong flavour of goats milk cheese, but I was not let down and it was great. Suddenly, I was a convert and quickly hunted down some sheep milk cheese at the Vic Market that weekend to bring home on the plane with me.

    When I started my Showcase Tasmania series, I was adamant that I had to have a cheese maker on board and when I sent my exploratory email to Grandvewe, I was really hoping that they liked my idea and wanted to be part of it. Luckily my pitch worked its magic and this weekend I headed down to Salamanca Markets to collect some cheese and chat to Grandvewe in person.

    I really would have loved to have had the time to head down to the actual Cheesery at Birchs Bay, but I couldn’t. By all accounts, the Cheesery is fantastic and you can read a little bit about it on the website here. Definitely something I want to visit one day!

    I tried three different cheeses for the sake of my research and honestly, I love what I do. How many other people get to nibble on cheese and biscuits, all while claiming that they’re working?

    The Primavera is a lovely crumbly mostly hard cheese with amazing flavour. This one was the huge hit family wide, with the children stealing all of the cheese off my plate and leaving me empty biscuits. It wasn’t my fault that I then needed to cut more to replace it.

    I made Nathan try some, knowing that he would probably like it, but also knowing that he wouldn’t try it unless I made him. He doesn’t like specialty cheese as much as I do and you’ll never catch him eating brie or camembert for breakfast, let alone sprinkling a blue through salad. He looked at me after tasting it and said “Wow, that has to be the most perfect tasting cheese.” It was great, but also, then I had to share.

    Note to self: Do not insist everyone else help you with the cheese tastings.

    I was a little worried about tasting a blue cheese – I like blue cheese, but it can be overwhelming. I shouldn’t have worried at all, when it was sweet and sharp all at once and very very moreish. This was my favourite cheese of the three and I spent more time than I probably should have telling myself Just one more biscuit.

    You’ve been warned, it is fantastic. Isaac was also a big fan of the blue cheese, having slightly more adventurous tastes than his father and sister. I was happy to celebrate the fact that he was eating something that wasn’t milk or jam sandwiches, even as I grumbled about sharing.

    And finally, the White Pearl. I was warned by a friend to eat this cheese quite quickly and she was right. The shelf life is not long at all and so I would suggest eating it on the day that you buy it. I spread mine on slices of crusty bread and refused to share. It was divine, soft and creamy. If I’d had more salad ingredients in the fridge, I would have tossed it through salad leaves and cherry tomatoes.

    Grandvewe is the only sheep milk cheesery in Tasmania and one of only a couple in the country. On top of that, they are certified organic, with a range of organic cheeses.

    Their cheese can be bought online and posted to you (which I highly recommend for those of you not in Tassie!) or you can check out the mainland distributors here.

    Now all I need to do is work out how I can expand my budget to include more Grandvewe cheese, without sending us to the poor house supporting my newly found addiction.

    *photos from Grandvewe’s website.

  • Blogging: I’m doing it wrong

    I shouldn’t be writing a post right now. Haven’t you read the posts telling you when the best time to post is? Saturday afternoons are bad. So are Fridays. And Mondays. And Thursdays. And Sundays.

    Tuesdays and Wednesdays are okay, but only if you publish them at the right time of day; before breakfast, or during the lunch hour – not at 5pm when people are getting home from work, or mid morning when everyone is busy.

    No. You can’t post things whenever you like.

    And okay, I get that there are optimal times to publish thing and I GET that sometimes traffic is higher and lower and if you want to “work the system” then you need to tune into these times and play the game. The problem remains however, if I only post at optimal times, then I’d never write anything.

    I’m a bit sick of the system and I sure as hell don’t want to play the game anymore. Blogging isn’t a game to be tweaked, it’s STORYTELLING. I don’t want to tread on people to get to the top. Maybe other people do, but I’m not that person.

    I’m doing it wrong.

    I’m not scrabbling up a ladder, or jostling for position, or elbowing a baby in the head in the race to get to the front.

    I can come to terms with this.

    I’ve been “doing it wrong” for my entire life and look where that has gotten me. I have beautiful kids, a partner that I’m marrying next month and a life I love living. I think I can safely say that doing it wrong is what I do best.

    ***

    I got caught up in the PR noise, chewed up and spit out.

    It wasn’t until I sat down to really work out why I was feeling so blah about blogging that I realised: I had been basing my entire self-worth as a blogger on the pitches that landed in my inbox. Absolutely ridiculous.

    I had been pressing send/receive, waiting for things to fall in my lap. Hoping that interesting things would happen and pouting when they didn’t.

    Now that I’ve realised what was bothering me, I can let it go.

    I should be basing my self worth on how I feel about things, rather than on what emails land in my inbox, or how many comments and retweets I get.

    And frankly, I feel pretty good about things lately. Showcase Tasmania is doing really well and I’m loving it, there is a huge opportunity on the horizon and when I stop having panic attacks about it, it has the potential to be really huge (and really fun) and this is my blog and I can post whenever I like.

    I think I can safely say, if this is doing it wrong, then I probably don’t want to be doing it right.

  • Showcase Tasmania: Sorell Fruit Farm

    I’ve always been a fan of pick-your-own-fruit farms, ever since I visited one at the north of the state with my grandmother as a child. I hadn’t been to one for years though, which is a terrible oversight, as every year I lament the fact that I can’t buy enough fruit in bulk to make jam. Seems silly now that I think about it.

    Sorell Fruit Farm is situated at Sorell, which is around 25 minutes from Hobart. When I was a kid, we used to spend weekends with friends down at Primrose Sands, and I’m rather a fan of that end of the state. I think it might be the sea air. In any case, I always feel better after a trip down there.

    We headed down to check out the Cherry Blossom Festival last week and to photograph the farm for Showcase Tasmania.

    I wasn’t quite sure what to expect and taking two quirky boundary pushing children anywhere is challenging at the best of times. I had nothing to worry about however, all of that fresh air and room to run made sure that the children were very well behaved and they had fun too.

    Sorell Fruit Farm offers many different types of fruit and I am planning to head back in January sometime to pick fruit for jams and sauces. I’m stupidly excited about getting fruit in bulk.

    On top of fruit, they also do a range of their own jams, vinegars and liqueurs, which I can safely say are divine. (If you haven’t made salad dressing using raspberry vinegar yet, then you haven’t lived. Who would have thought that raspberry and garlic taste so amazing together over salad?)

    The farm has a rotation system in place for the strawberry beds, planting mustard before strawberries, for the anti-bacterial properties that mustard holds. The sea of yellow was striking and absolutely filled with insects. I could have stood on the edges photographing bees for hours, but Isaac demanded that I hold his hand. Bee photos are not terribly sharp when you’ve got a two year old tugging at your arm.

    I settled for snapping photos of apple blossom instead.

    It was a great way to spend an overcast but warm afternoon and I absolutely recommend that everyone visit and pick some fruit. There is a cafe and shop on site, as well as picnic areas for anyone wanting to bring their own lunch.

    The best bit though? It was absolutely kid friendly and I was able to relax as we walked around.

    And take your camera. There is not much better than wandering through an orchard with a camera, especially with the birds and insects around.

    I will definitely be going back to visit again and I would love to get enough fruit to spend a weekend preserving.

    Sorell Fruit Farm is located at 174 Pawleena Road, Sorell, Tasmania and is definitely worth your time.

  • Showcase Tasmania: Anvers Chocolates + giveaway

    Anvers chocolates have long been a love of mine, a luxurious indulgence when I see them in little shops and actually have the money to purchase them. Of course, since children this has been, uh, never. A shocking oversight in my mind, but these are the sacrifices we make.

    Anvers are participating in Showcase Tasmania and to that end, they sent me some chocolates to nibble on, as well as a “House Of Anvers Gift Bag” for me to give away to you.

    Firstly, their chocolates are to die for delicious. The truffles were amazing and I seriously wish that I hadn’t shared them. They are the kind of deep rich satisfying chocolate that makes bedtime screaming worth it, as you hide in the closet nibbling. With the amazing richness though, they’re not heavy and eating two at a time didn’t make me feel heavy, or ill. Which was fantastic for me, but not so fantastic for my chocolate rationing.

    The orange chocolate segments got me through some tough afternoon patches and there is a slight possibility that you could have found me in the bedroom with the door locked, refusing to share.

    I also got to try two types of fudge, butterscotch and milk chocolate, both were delicious as well, with Nathan being particularly fond of the butterscotch one.

    Now, because I love you guys and Anvers obviously does as well, I have a gift bag to giveaway!

    The gift bag contains Truffles 125g, Choc-orange segments 125g, 2x fudge (orange and butterscotch) 85g each.

    I’m using a new widget to manage giveaways and it appears to be working for me.

    The only mandatory entry is a comment answering the question: What is your special indulgence after a long day?



    You MUST check the boxes on the widget to enter – it makes my life much simpler. Let me know if you have any questions!

  • A little bit of insanity is a good thing

    We all want to be normal. Completely average and exactly the same as everyone else. No one wants to be called the weird kid, or the one who is odd at inappropriate times. We all want to be brilliant, but completely unrecognisable.

    I struggle with this, because when I’m writing fiction, the inside of my head feels more real than reality. Children needing food and drinks, attention and cuddles, snap me out of my world and I’m left with one foot on either side of my realities, wondering which one I’m actually meant to be in. Then I wander around distractedly, too firmly implanted in this reality to write, but too far into that reality to think clearly.

    It feels a little like a waking dream, as I hold conversations inside my head, with potential characters and flesh out worlds and plots.

    Having small children means that I don’t write as much as I want to, because no one copes very well when I’m stuck in the alternate reality in my head.

    I admire Amanda Palmer, with her ninja gigs and amazing clothing. I admire her brilliance and her music and her VERVE, in going out into the world, dressed however-the-fuck she wants to dress. She is brilliant because she DOESN’T want to be like everyone else. I admire that she does what she loves in the biggest, loudest way possible.

    I don’t want to be like everyone else, but I find myself getting squashed into the box that society prescribes for us. The small square box of normality , where creativity is correctly partitioned off and exercised at only the right moments.

    I want to be brilliant and different and amazing and I need to realise that being brilliant and different and amazing, means that I need to stop being so fucking scared of being different.

    Don’t be controversial, you’ll make yourself untouchable.

    Be sure to stop swearing, so that you appeal to brands.

    Don’t speak out about anxiety and depression, because then you’ll be forever labelled.

    Write what everyone wants to hear, so that everyone likes you.

    I mean, CHRIST. The list of things we should and shouldn’t do (the unwritten list, that we all hold close to our chests and read from every night, so that we remember how we’re meant to behave) gets longer every day and I’m drowning underneath it.

    When I start feeling a little insane, I write things. I also wander into walls and forget to cook dinner and feed everyone pasta with butter three nights in a row, but I’m busy having ideas and the sparks inside my head are flying. I just wish I could stop feeling so guilty about fucking pasta and go with the insanity.

    A little bit of insanity is a good thing – I’m not seeking out a psych because of the insanity. I’m seeking out a psych because of the anxiety.

    The anxiety that stops me doing what I want to do. That makes me question wearing rainbow tights in public, or glitter eyeshadow, or a dress just because I want to.

    I want to break the mould and embrace the different.

    After all, we’ve proved over and over again that difference is enviable, and coveted. We just don’t want to be the ones considered different.