Just beet it

I have previously expressed my love and admiration for Bill's Beetroot Relish. One of my favourite Tassie products.

But after picking up a bunch of beetroots from the Hobart farmers' market I decided to give it a whirl myself. Tasty as. You just try it too. Go on...

3 medium-large beets, trimmed

1 large onion, grated or finely chopped

1 large Granny Smith apple - peeled, cored and grated

1 cup of balsamic vinegar

1/4 cup of OJ and a piece of orange peel

1 to 1 1/2 cups of raw sugar

Few cloves

cinnamon stick

couple of rosemary sprigs

Rub the beets in salt, pepper and olive oil. Wrap in foil and roast for up to an hour and a half in 180 degree oven until cooked through. Cool, peel, and grate.

Chuck everything in a saucepan, bring to boil and simmer for 20-30 minutes. Cool, remove peel and rosemary & cloves and store in a container.

To be enjoyed on sandwiches, with steak or mixed through salads... any which way you can.

Now beet it.

Tunnel of Love

It's not often you get a chance to dine underground.

After attending an all-day wine and food event at Seppelt in Victoria's Great Western I can tick that off my list.

The winery sits above a three-kilometre labyrinth of tunnels, and the finale of the event was a three-course dinner matched with a selection of wines and served up in one of the tunnels. If that doesn't sound like enough atmosphere, the tunnel ceilings are covered in a black fungus (transported from France back in the day) that resembles a gothic fairy floss.

The food was nothing to write home about - with the entree of Asian-flavoured sticky pork belly the highlight. It was all overshadowed by wines that included some un-released and museum.

The pick of those were: 1988 Drumborg Riesling, 1998 St Peters Shiraz and the 2004 Show Sparkling Shiraz.

Before dinner, we worked up an appetite by:

- Disgorging bottles of wine - using gas stored in a bottle to pop out the yeast lees that has been concentrated in the neck by riddling. I know, I know: mumbo jumbo talk. But it all made sense under the tutelage of winemakers Jo Marsh and Kelly Healey.

- Trying to mix a range of different wines to match the one we were given to taste. (Aftermath of that experimentation pictured above.)

- Tasting wines at their 'base' and 'tirage' stages to compare to the finished product. The 96 Salinger tirage was so good I drank the whole taster.

And back to the start of the day, we slurped on some 2006 Salinger Sparkling and Original Sparkling and ate a tapas luncheon. Which was all over delicious. (See below.)

Makes me want to go to more wine events - especially if they're in weird places.

Full of beans

A new city means finding new caffeine dens.

After a couple of weeks of trial and error, my top three for Hobart are:

3. Villino. For the serious coffee aficionado. (Clearly not me - I drink mochas).

2. Oomp Coffee. I went in there on stress free day and they were wearing flannelet pyjamas. Noice. Drinks are yummy too.

1. Dr Coffee. It's closest to my work (metres count when it's winter), the coffee is always excellent, they are always baking something scrumptious when I walk in there, and the baristas are good looking.

It was the best of times, it was the wurst of times

I spent last Sunday making sausages. That's something you don't get to say every day.

The class was held at Red Feather Inn in Hadspen, Tasmania. It has accommodation and a cooking school - amazing place.

John T Bailey was the man giving the orders in the kitchen. (His "day job" is chef at The Banc Restaurant in Swansea). Certainly the sort of man you jump to, when he tells you to. So, I

was a little apprehensive about being near a mincer when he was about.

Turns out, he's a lovely bloke. And it is possible to make your own sausages, as long as you have a team of people (or at least 2) and a good (read: expensive) mincer.

Our menu for the day was ambitious: lamb koftas, country pork cumberland, smoked kransky, game sausage and chipolatas.

Step 1: was getting the ingredients together. In a real sausage (read: one that doesn't come cheap from the supermarket or butcher) there is meat, spices and herbs. That's it.

Step 2: mince the meat. Depending on how fine you want it will depend on how much you mince it. The expensive machines mince faster, thereby cutting your prep time and ensuring the uncooked meat does not heat up.

Step 3: Filling the casings. We used intestines (different sizes for different bangers) and one person fed in the mince while another was in charge of filling the casing in an even way that still had a little give (so it doesn't burst when you tie it). It's quite delicate work.

Step 4: Tie them off. You use the same technique as a busker does when making a balloon poodle for a kid, by twisting the sausages into each other. Then, hang for a bit before cooking.

We all sat down together to eat the product of our hard labour, and boy were those snags filling. A world away from a typical barbie.

Fancy fare

I spent a delightful Saturday afternoon at Fitzpatricks Inn in Westbury, Tasmania.

The two-hour experience was set apart from my other high tea experiences by the live music. A lovely local lass played the harp and the pan-flute. Told stories of how she came to own her first harp prompting lessons (an ex that owed her money and paid her back in instrument, as he made them) and also of her travels (the pan-flute is the national instrument of Romania).

While we listened, we ate: finger sandwiches, drop scones with cream and jam and mini-everything...

That's hot!

With the weather cold enough in Tasmania to freeze one's face after five minutes exposure, staying warm is a priority.

The hot drinks at Coco Bean in Launceston are helping.

And look how pretty they are!

An ode to Omi

I come from a cake loving family.

Whenever there is a birthday, there is a decision on cake to be had. A most important decision.

For some important celebrations, we don’t have to make a decision – we have three or four cakes instead.

If I could, I would order a cherry cheese and poppy seed cake from Bauers stall at Salamanca market for my next birthday. (Sorry, I ate first and took a photograph second.)

Goodness it’s delicious. There’s the creaminess of the cheese, tartness from the sour cherries and a slight bitterness from the poppy seeds.

A cake my Omi would have been proud of.