‘The caffettiera is a cultural icon’*

‘The caffettiera is a cultural icon’*

There are two boxes on the dining room table. In one, a vintage tea set, and a random assortment of old mugs.

In the other, which happens to be an El Toro hard and soft taco kit box from Aldi, is a plastic cup full of swizzle sticks, a shower timer, souvenir coasters from New Zealand, a small Thermos, and, the caffettiera.

The caffettiera.

Once more, the caffettiera.


Me: Mum, what’s all this stuff in these boxes?

Mum: I’m getting rid of it all!

Me (confused): Why is the caffettiera in here then?

Mum: We never use it, and it only makes one cup of coffee.

Me (bewildered): It makes four cups. It’s a four cup caffettiera. Little cups, espresso cups.

Mum: It’s going.

Me: Dad!



The caffettiera has now resumed pride of place on the top shelf in my wardrobe.

It’s a well worn-in caffettiera; it’s the caffettiera I was taught how to make Italian coffee in my by Auntie Ianuzza when I was a teenager**.

And now it’s going to accompany me to my next stovetop, and the one after that, and the one after that.

Safe and sound.


*Credit to my cuz, Luciano, for inspiring the title of this blog post.

**Apparently, I used to pack the coffee in too tightly which didn’t then allow for the correct level of filtration to occur…



Conversations with mum and dad – Episode 2: You know you swear too much when you can’t think of another word for ar*ehole

Conversations with mum and dad – Episode 2: You know you swear too much when you can’t think of another word for ar*ehole

Mum: You’ve read The Picture of Dorian Gray haven’t you?

Me: Yeah, I read it in school.

Mum: What was it about?

Me: It was about this guy who had a portrait of himself which got uglier as he turned into more of an ar…

The painting changed to reflect his every vice, and he kept it hidden out of shame.

Mum: Ah yes, that’s sounds familiar. I think I’ve seen it.

Me: Yeah it got made into a movie.

Dad: Well I remember him from The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. I hated what they did to the Phantom in that movie. Hated it!

‘You did not call the police!’

‘You did not call the police!’

6:35am I wake up.

9:30am Mum and dad leave the house to go about their morning activities.

9:32am I emerge from my room to go about my morning activities, starting with opening the doors to the veranda to let the warm sunny day in, making sure of course, to leave the fly screen doors closed.

My morning activities included completing two loads of washing, cleaning my room, chatting with one of my sisters on the phone about my weekend plans, and making a batch of my signature vegan Bolognese sauce (containing my secret ingredient, Shiraz – recipe to follow in a later post).

Mid-morning I got hungry and found two gourmet chocolates in the fridge. I ate one, bit into the second but it was full of that weird liqueur filling, so I put it back in the cellophane bag and returned it to the fridge.

12:30pm Domestic activities complete, I grab dad’s car keys and head to the pool for my weekend swim.

Dad’s great, on numerous occasions he’s told me I can borrow his car whenever I need it.

1:30pm Return to the car and open the glovebox to retrieve my phone. I’m confronted with 19 missed calls, 6 Voicemail messages, a few Messenger messages and a Messenger voice calls. Interesting. I open the call log. Mum, mum, mum, mum, mum, dad, dad, mum etc. Hm.

I call mum back:

Me: Hi mum, what’s going on?

Mum (panicked): Where have you been?!

Me: I’ve been at the pool.

Mum (still panicked): Well you could have left a note!! Your father* and I have been worried sick about you, we thought you’d been abducted!!

Me (bemused): Abducted?! What they heck made you think I’d been abducted?!

Mum (still panicked and now annoyed at my bemusement as well): Well we got home from the shops and the doors were wide open, there was half a bottle of wine on the bench**, a chocolate missing from the fridge, and half a one left in there, and your father’s car was missing!

Me (still bemused, stifling laugher): The flyscreen doors were shut, I opened the bottle of Shiraz to put some in my Bolognese sauce, I didn’t like the liqueur in the chocolate, and dad said I could borrow his car whenever I wanted…

Mum (increased annoyance at my bemusement): We called the police.

Me (bemusement replaced by shock): You did not. You did not call the police!

Mum: We also called the Fountain Gate Shopping Centre and got security to put an announcement over the PA for you!

Me (now laughing openly): This is not happening.

Mum: Your sister said you told her you were going there this afternoon, so we rang them up.

Me: This is seriously not happening.

Mum: Well I’m glad you’re finding this so funny.

Me: I’ll be home soon. Hangs up.


Yes, all this actually happened.


*When mum asked dad if all these actions sounded like something I would do, he apparently shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘yeah, that sounds like something she’d do’.

**there was half a cup, max, missing from the bottle of Shiraz, which consequently, dad and I finished off on Sunday night. It was a good drop.

Conversations with mum and dad – Episode 1: The livestock industry

Conversations with mum and dad – Episode 1: The livestock industry

Dad (spooning mushroom salad onto his plate): Some good protein here.

Me (enthusiastically): Yep, and vitamin B12 and iron!

Dad: Yeah but gimme a steak any day, so much better.

Me: Not so sure the cow would agree with that.

Mum: Well, cows have a pretty boring existence, just standing around all day. You may as well eat them.

Me (eyes literally popping out of my head): They only have that ‘boring existence’ because we breed them into it so you can eat them!!!

Mum (more shocked at my outburst than the content of my comment): Well!!