We went west

Many months ago, long before anyone could have imagined a tangerine tyrant would start a war, we booked a trip to Orange Food Week with friends.

Well, more accurately, our friends booked it and we agreed to tag along and enjoy other people doing all the organising.

But then THIS happened …

And THIS happened …

And travel to the Central West became much more expensive and circuitous.

But we had lots of fun stuff booked, so we emptied our bank accounts at the bowser and set off on a grand adventure via the Bells Line of Road.

Siri was no help at all. Every time DD asked for directions to Orange the CITY, she would send us to the fruit and veg section at Coles. Hopeless.

But we got there eventually, dropped our bags in our gorgeous bedroom in the most enormous Airbnb house and headed to the Food Week Night Markets.

Held beneath festoon lights and the autumn canopy of Robertson Park, there were nearly 50 stalls serving food from local chefs, cooks and caterers, alongside cool-climate wines, ciders, spirits and craft beers.

DD and I shared some of the best satay we’ve eaten in years from CAJE Kitchen and sipped glasses of pink bubbles.

The next day was action-packed. It kicked off with DD cycling halfway up Mount Canobolas with his mates, followed by brekkie at Byng Street Local Store, which was heaving with happy customers and served great coffee.

Then we drove to Mayfield Wines for a masterclass with their French winemaker. It was held at a long table filled with flowers and masses of charcuterie. Afterwards, as I explored the property, meeting the chooks and giving the resident donkey a scratch behind the ears, a sense of deja vu came over me.

I had the feeling I’d been to the vineyard many years before for a wedding. So I texted the bride to check and sure enough she exchanged her vows there almost 19 years ago to the day. (That’s the site of their nuptials in the main pic.)

Afterwards, the group split down gender lines. The women headed home for an afternoon nap and the blokes went to Badlands Brewery for a schooner. I don’t do afternoon naps or schooners, so I relaxed in this fabulous bath …

Next stop was Printhie Wines for more pink bubbles with the most magnificent views …

That was followed by dinner at Hey Rosey, a lively wine bar with just 20 seats for dining. It’s so sardine-sized thar they set us up on a long table outside. Head chef Hugh Piper, formerly of Sydney’s Dear Sainte Éloise, created sheer culinary magic in a space on the the size of a hankerchief, using mainly local produce and accompanied by local wines.

We asked the waiter where the bar’s name came from and he said from a song. I queried if it was the Joan Armatrading song and he looked at me VERY blankly, even after I attempted to (badly) sing it. Apparently it’s named after a number by The National. We listened to it afterwards. Yeah, nah, Joan’s song is MUCH better.

Our shared menu included the most delicious hazelnut-studded mortadella that DD has ever tasted; Rosnay organic figs topped with ricotta and prosciutto and drizzled with chardonnay vinegar (total flavour bombs); ricotta with braised zucchini, dill oil and fennel flowers; beef tartare with eggplant and fermented chilli sauce; freshly rolled pasta with lamb ragu; pavlova with poached plums and another yummy dessert topped with honeycomb.

Spectacular spread!

Then it was off to Union Bank for a nightcap before crashing out exhausted from our huuuuuge day!

The next morning called for another Byng Street brekkie – I devoured the delicious mushrooms on toast with crispy kale.

Orange is the most wonderful town, with a vibrant main street and gorgeous historic homes at every turn, but we ran out of time to explore it thoroughly and we’ll need to return.

Nervous about the traffic, we made our way back to Sydney, where I convinced a reluctant DD to for a quick swim at Avalon Beach. Little knowing there had been a shark alert there earlier in the day …

All too soon it was time to return to the real world, where I had a chitter chat with the youngest for her birthday.

She turned 20 yesterday and I’m struggling to come to terms with not being a mother to teenagers any more. The years pass way too fast.

Hope you had a good weekend too!

Song of the day: Joan Armatrading “Rosie”