(I apologize for the gap between posts. This New England winter has robbed me of time, energy, time, ...did I mention time? Onward...!)
There is so much more to Australian food than pink lunch meat and witchetty grubs. Good restaurants, a variety of ethnic dining options (especially in the city) and varied, flavorful cooking abound. And Tim Tams.
There is so much more to Australian food than pink lunch meat and witchetty grubs. Good restaurants, a variety of ethnic dining options (especially in the city) and varied, flavorful cooking abound. And Tim Tams.
On returning from my visit with the Walpiri, I stop at the market looking for a treat after my Outback grub (pun intended).
Tim Tams catch my eye. Tim Tams are two chocolate cookies with a chocolate cream filling, coated with a layer of chocolate. Yes! (Sorry, I was getting kind of into the chocolate thing there, and anyone who knows me would have expected as much.)
Tim Tams have a unique quality not found in any other sandwich cookie (really). Tim Tams can be used as straws. There's even a name for this: Tim Tam Slam.
Bite off the two diagonal corners; put one bitten end into a beverage; put the other bitten end into your mouth. Hot beverages lead to a melting warm and luscious disintegration that you have to pop into your mouth wicked fast. Cold beverages make it possible for you to bite the soaked Tim Tam more neatly.
It may seem odd that I would devote this much space to Tim Tams. Bear in mind I had recently eaten a witchetty grub. Also …a quick Youtube search reveals dozens (really) of Tim Tam Slam videos. It ain’t just me. To watch a family Tim Tam Slam, go to http://tinyurl.com/SlamTimTam
With my chocolate needs sated, I head east. Going from Alice Springs to the northeast coast is like flying from the Mojave Desert to Florida in summer. The Cairns hotel lobby is open to the warm, sea breezes, and I can hear the crashing waves on the beach not far away.
As I'm checking in, I say, “Maybe I’ll walk the beach before I go to sleep.”
“Only if you want to get eaten alive by mozzies,’ replies the woman at the desk.
I just stand there, looking blankly at her as if she'd spoken a foreign language (which she sort of had).
“Mosquitoes,” she clarifies. “They’ll eat you alive on the beach at night.”
Much as I love bugs of all sorts, I decide to skip the beach walk and go straight to my room instead.
Outside my room in Port Douglas
I cross a footbridge over a pond filled with water lilies. A lazy fan circulates the air, crickets serenade outside, the surf echoes in the distance, and I get ready for my next big adventure—the Great Barrier Reef, where tomorrow I’m going snorkeling (for the first time in my life).
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