by Martin Field
Barbecued lamb flaps in Alice Springs
Lamb flaps, as I remember, were barbecuing over a smoky wood fire, near the old water hole at the Alice Springs Telegraph Station. Our hosts were members of the Pitjantjatjara and Tangentyere people and one of the guests was Peter Brook, visiting the Alice following his involvement in the 1980 Adelaide Festival.
As dusk turned to dark, a local guitarist played Slim Dusty songs and we sat around drinking beer and wine, chewing the fat and gnawing the lamb in the sandy, waterless, riverbed.
Afterwards there was a party in town in honour of Peter. He asked if he could get a lift there with us.
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘If you don’t mind riding in back of the Moke with Kali the Blue Heeler.’ Here I should mention that there were no seats in the rear of our yellow Mini Moke, rather an uncomfortable metal shelf, and no seat belts.
He didn’t mind, and we were treated to the sight of this eminent director, no doubt used to more luxurious transport, crawling onto his uncomfortable ‘seat’ while the dog licked his face in welcome.
He survived the trip and we partied on.
I am sitting here on a rainy winter day in California dreaming of Australian wine country. My problem is where to go Hunter Valley is one spot and where you are is far from there is it not? Great flavor of the place in your writing, thanks keep it up!
Hi Mark – Yes we are a long way north of the Hunter Valley, which itself is a tad north of Sydney, New South Wales.
If you can find them in California try a few bottles of Hunter Valey shiraz – usually mid-weighted and elegant.
Or their semillons, dry, acid, sometimes steely with a lemony, dry grass flavour spectrum. Excellent aperitif styles and the classic semillons age well for 20 years and more.