ROAST
DINNERS
When I was a kid we had a “roast
dinner" every Sunday. It was lunch-time but it was called
a “roast dinner.”
Usually it was a leg of lamb. No rosemary. No
garlic. Occasionally it was a slab of pork and we would fight
over who got the most crackling. Pure fat. Heart attack on a plate!
We never had roast chicken. That was a luxury
reserved for Easter and Christmas. I couldn’t believe it
when I got from New Zealand to Australia and discovered that people
ate roast chicken every week. And then I got to America and discovered
it was junk food!
But on Sundays in New Zealie Mum would roast
the leg of lamb.
Dad would pour his first beer from a flagon
of flat warm swill around 11a.m. as the smells of the roasting
lamb would filter through from the kitchen. And us kids were allowed
a shandy from a peanut butter jar. A touch of beer but mostly
lemonade.
Then the roast lamb. The best bits were the
dark slivers at the bottom of the shank. As they say: the closer
to the bone, the sweeter the meat. A bit like life, really. And
we always had roast potatoes and carrots and sometimes parsnips
and roast pumpkin. And delicious dark gravy.
It was a Sunday ritual. And in Melbourne, in
several classy restaurants, that ritual is, surprisingly, coming
back.
At the new Fawkner, in Toorak Road –
which I reviewed recently – they have Sunday roasts for
less than 30 dollars. Beef, pork, lamb. It changes every week.
My favourite is at Riva at the St Kilda Marina.
They now spruik their “winter Sunday
roast”. It’s good value. They charge $22.50 for a
“traditional Sunday roast with roasted
baby potatoes, butternut pumpkin, garden peas and home style gravy”.
I liked their other line: With a glass of red
and a roaring open fire, where else would you want to be on a
cold, rainy, Sunday?”
And it is true. Sunday roasts bring back such
cosy family memories. It WAS the biggest family meal of the week.
We would listen to the Sunday Morning Hospital Request session
on the wireless.
Then the other weekly traditions: Mum would
cook. We would help peel the spuds. Dad would carve. And we would
eat so much that Sunday night it was just “bubble and squeak”
or Dad would make chips. Or we would have toasted sandwiches filled
with baked beans and cheese from the new-fangled “jaffle
iron”. Or “jiffy iron” as some people called
them.
The Sunday roast was a tradition. It’s
good to see it back.