fancy that. just as i settled in to gussy up this previously posted account of my jaunt into the golden brown country and the golden brown (and pink! and red!) cakes that were encountered, chairman kaga revealed the secret ingredient on “iron chef“: it was dessert battle! in particular, it was strawberry dessert holiday battle!! well!!!

um. so that put the business on hold. this morning i settled in at mr computer with a cup of vanilla green tea and a platter of chocolate sprinkles on white bread… and then a lightning storm thundered in. and then maeve woke up… and then i had a cup of blueberries with yoghurt… and a nectarine… and then maeve went back to sleep… so now it’s three hours later, and before i get too distracted by the gapkids website, i thought i’d best continue.

so. where we were headed, with the car packed to the roof with all the portable baby furniture (and baby) and fishing rod and travel snacks we could fit, was country victoria. ned kelly country victoria, to be precise. there was no set date for our return; we had as much as two and a half weeks if we wanted, house sitting for the boyss aunt in rutherglen. we were welcome to eat anything from the garden: the beans, the eggs, the mulberries, the potatoes from mick’s prized patch. if they had been ripe we could also have gorged ourselves on the peaches from the tree in the middle of the yard right next to the enormous hills hoist, and the grapes, and what appeared to be 20 kilograms of kiwifruit hanging from the trellis. perhaps it was just as well the hanging fruit wasn’t ready for harvest — there is a bit of a rat infestation in the roof, and they run along the grape and kiwi vines, and i’m sure they lick the fruit every now and again. lick, lick.

i was promised driving lessons along country roads, and a cheese factory excursion, and a visit to the beechworth bakery that had been too crowded the last time we breezed through. in the end, i had just the one driving lesson (my second ever, don’t worry, i won’t be hitting a road near you just yet), the milawa cheese company was a gracious host with a counter lady who let us sample every single cheese — and there were lots — on her tray, and the beechworth baker served up this raspberry and pastry cream extravaganza:

mmm…

in rutherglen itself, the black dog bakery had two sorts of cream lamingtons on display: regular brown cube, and little pink ball. there was only a brief discussion in my head as to which it would be.

back in the kitchen i cut it in two –half for now, and half for later. but after eating the first half, i discovered that my hand, all cream and coconut fingers, was rifling in the paper bag for the other bit.

in corryong, home to the man from snowy river, the bakerylady asked if i wanted the apple and blueberry pie with cream or without. this time there was no discussion at all. it was stowed carefully in a shady spot of footspace in the car, and due to the ham and pickle on pumpkin bread sandwiches that we had packed for the drive, wasn’t actually devoured until cooma, on the picnic blanket under a tree.

homeward, we stayed the night in canberra, at a motel next to the harmonie german club. oh how we rubbed our hands in glee at the thought of schnitzel or fat sausages and sauerkraut for dinner. but after we signed in and walked the 20 metres through the gaming lounge which was enough to infuse us with a cigarette-smoky odour for the rest of the evening, we discovered that the little nook of a restaurant offered such standard pub fare as steak and chips, or chops and chips, or fish and chip [sic], or thai style salmon rissoles and chips. right at the bottom of the chalkboard, though, was the schnitzel, so we had that. it ended up being a homey, tasty, gravy-covered thing nestled amongst the boiled pumpkin, peas and potato, and the mound of sauteed mushroom-silverbeet. the counter lady, who had started off a bit surly when i asked what the mustard chicken at the top of the menu was (“well, it’s chicken, with mustard…” she said, pointing at the grimy jar of grainy mustard on the counter), came over to admire maeve, and then a little while later brought us a small bowl of chips and gravy while we waited for her to boil up some fresh vegetables.

the next morning found me in a kingston bakery buying breakfast. the apple pie looked magnificent:

and indeed the pastry was a sugary, crunchy treat, but its interior turned out to be a cavernous space with a gummy, apple-studded filling hugging the edges like a big mass of boogers. perversely, i persisted, and it seemed to improve with each bite. sort of. just.

anyway, what i was really excited about was the tray of cake by the counter, above which the placard read: “new red velvet cake”. i had been reading of this cake recently, and being too lazy to actually make one, i didn’t think i’d get to experience it any time soon. and here it was.

here it is, having survived the trip back up the remembrance driveway, sustaining me as i ploughed through a week and half of mail, comprised mainly of bills and kmart catalogs:

it was red and velvety, with a very sugary frosting — so sugary i contemplated not actually finishing it, though in the end nothing remained, not even the superfluous compund chocolate button. in short, it was a tasty cake, and i should have saved it for the horrible chore of wading through the week and half of email, which totalled 767, and out of which only one was not smutty, or an offer of pain relief, or a newsletter. thanks mum!

so there you go: the cakes of my recent past. somewhere in between there was the mammoth slice of mars bar cake that i somehow forgot to photograph. well. you know how it is… the cake frenzy.