January 5th is my birthday. It's not exactly the best day of the year. It's right after Christmas when no one has any money and they're done celebrating anything until Valentine's Day. But it could be worse. My sister was born on December 22nd, just three days before Christmas. We were born in the same year. I was born in January and eleven and a half months later she was born. They call that Irish twins. We fight like the Irish, so it must be true.
For two weeks of each year we're the same age. When we were younger she used to taunt me, "I'm the same age as you, I'm the same age as you." This was generally followed by a tongue stuck out and a smirk. But now that we're of a, um, certain age, I'm the one chanting, "I'm the same age as you, I'm the same age as you!" This is usually followed by wine.
But this year I wouldn't be celebrating with my sister, or my friends. I was in the Barossa Valley, Australia and it would just be Russell, me and my new friend, Shiraz.
I started the day with a creamy, frothy latte. As this was our fourth day at our accommodations, the Barossa Pavilions, Russell had finally mastered the expresso machine in our room. He fancied himself a barista. This is a major feat considering Russell doesn't like coffee, a major character flaw I have chosen to overlook. He handed me the steaming cup as I swung on the porch swing that beautiful morning. He would look cute in a Peet's Coffee apron, I mused. I may need to get him one.
Russell and I are picnickers. I had read about this great farm stand in my investigations of the valley, called Maggie Beer's Farm Shop. Apparently Maggie is an institution in Australia, kind of like the way Martha Stewart is in the U.S. Her claim to fame was a restaurant she owned called the Barossa Pheasant Farm Restaurant. They owned a pheasant and quail farm that supplied the restaurant. Visitors used to come to the farm and she'd make them a snack, usually her world renown pheasant pate, and invite them to enjoy it on the premises. She went on to have a televised cooking show and published several cook books. Now she produces an entire line of products you can buy at stores all over the world and she has the farm shop.
The farm shop was great. It's reminiscent of a country store but with savory samples on each table. They have an order counter where you can take away some pre-made gourmet picnic boxes. We did this and it was awesome! I wish we had bought more pate. It was the best.
The Farm Shop
Guests are invited to either eat on the patio overlooking the pond or somewhere on the park-like grounds. Some friendly turtles, (I love turtles) tried to convince us to stay. It was enticing but we had other plans.
Farm Shop Greeters
Did I mention I love turtles?
We drove up to the far side of the valley to a place that has a spectacular view called Eden Valley Lookout. It was a park in progress. So far they had some dedication rocks, explaining how the park was founded, blah, blah, blah. And they had a big cross, picnic table and one trash can. There was no bathroom and no shade. Those were yet to come. What they did have was a great view. We breathed it in and the hot, dry, 90 degree Barossa Valley air.
Dedication rock.
Picnic table; no shade.
With it being hot and no shade, and me wearing black, the rose wine went way too fast and so did the pate. They were both sooo good. It was really windy up there so we had to decide what was more important to hold on to. I chose my cup.
Thank goodness I wore a hat and black.
The sprig of rosemary in the pre-made picnic box
is a nice touch.
Nice view.
Nap time.
Here's your birthday present.
Come unwrap me.
After our lovely picnic we took the scenic route back to our place and stopped along the way at various vista points. It was a lovely birthday afternoon. I capped it off with a nap. When I woke up a kangaroo came over to the pavilion to wish me happy birthday. He was standing just on the other side of our porch near the BBQ.
My birthday kangaroo.
He does kid parties too.
On the way to dinner we saw a wallaby, which is a smaller breed of kangaroo.
Don't confuse me with a kangaroo.
I'm a wallaby, damn it.
My birthday dinner was held at Appellation at the Louise Resort. I had actually considered staying at this resort. But it was twice as expensive as our place, the Barossa Pavilions, and it didn't have a view.
It's my birthday and I'll wear high-heels if I want to.
We started with a couple of glasses of champagne, my favorite beverage, on the patio overlooking the vineyards. The sun was just beginning to set, cascading the day's final rays of shimmering light and warmth across our happy faces.
Did you say champagne?
Bring it!
This does not suck.
They sat us at their best table next to the fireplace and candle wall.
I wonder how long it takes to light those candles.
The food was excellent. I especially loved the sorbet served in asymmetrical glass cups. Unfortunately they wouldn't fit in my purse. Just kidding. I mean about taking them.
Aren't these neat. I love the little spoons too.
I thought I would have room for dessert or a cheese plate. No luck.
But they brought out a birthday plate anyway.
Those are not mini-hamburgers.
After dinner we went back to our pavilion and drank some more delicious wine, while we watched the stars come out in force for my birthday. Sigh. So nice.
At 3:30am in the morning, as happens after many a drinking night, I had to go to the bathroom for some water. When I got back into bed I noticed some lights and dust just on a opposite ridge close by. For a moment I thought it looked like a fire. In the dark, cars driving along the dirt roads threw up dust that suspended like smoke in their headlights. I concluded it must be a car.
My stirring woke Russell up and he asked me if I was all right. "Yes", I was just thirsty." "What's that?!" he commented. "Oh, I thought it was a fire at first but I think it's just a car on a dirt road." "Uh, no, that's a fire." I looked again. Sure enough, the line of light I had thought was just headlights had grown to a half moon along the ridge and it was moving fast. Soon you could see the flames licking treacherously. It was spreading faster than rumors in high school. Suddenly we were both alarmed.
Russell said, "If it makes it over the next ridge we're leaving. Start packing." Ten minutes later we were packed and watching the flames in awe. We'd seen signs posted all over the valley about bush fire preparedness, never thinking they would have any relevance to us. Now a bush fire was hungrily eating its way over to us. It was incredible how fast it was hoovering towards us.
Russell had called the owner who had called the fire department. So far we hadn't seen any fire trucks, although the wind had changed direction and seemed to be goading the fire to the left instead of directly at us. The fire department told us to stay in our pavilion, but if we had to leave to go into the center of town. That would be the safest place. Russell was contemplating Adelaide.
The fire was just on the verge of the final ridge closest to us when we heard the fire trucks. There was about five of them. They had to pick their way carefully because most of the roads that led to the infected area were not paved. Russell's grip on the car keys loosened ever so softly. We had a front row seat to the fire fighting. It was mesmerizing watching them work. Clearly they had done this before.
First they cut the fire in half. Then they concentrated on the fire closest to a house it was near consuming. While they tackled that, they let the right side of the fire go unchecked. All that was out there was grazing land. I worried about the animals. When they had the left side of the fire under control they surrounded the other fire from each side until they met in the middle and squelched it.
The owner of the pavilions showed up right around the middle of the episode assuring us the fire department had everything under control and we were safe. By this time is was 5am and we were exhausted. The adrenaline from the fire had burnt out and we were ready to sleep. We got back into bed and didn't wake up until lunch time.
We decided to drive around and survey the damage. The house had been saved but there was a rather gigantic singed area. The animals were all OK.
This picture does NOT do it justice.
This fire was threatening to eat us!
Acres singed; animals and homes saved.
We decided to go back to the Vintners Bar and Grill for some comfort food before taking on Kaesler and Penfolds wineries.
By dinner we were gourmet'ed out. We opted for a take-out pizza instead. It wasn't worth commenting about, other than it's amazing how red wine makes shitty pizza taste better. Perhaps Dominoes should offer wine with theirs.
The next day was our last in Barossa. We started with the Barossa Farmer's Market. The weather had changed over night. It was blustery and almost cool. Farmer's tents threatened to fly away in the deluge.
The farmer's market wasn't as exciting as I thought it would be. I was hoping to find some heirloom tomatoes, or other farm grown goodies. We had planned to eat at the pavilion that night.
I was inspired by a Maggie Beers recipe in the local travel guide. A chicken dish made with honey and a melange of root vegetables. I was hoping to find some root vegetables but all I found was static cling.
My hair looked like Medusa. Nice.
The locals assured us the farmers market is usually better.
But the wind was keeping people away.
By this time we were pretty much wined out. But we had heard the restaurant at Jacobs Creek, originally called "Jacobs" was good so we decided to go there for lunch. Jacobs Creek is sort of the "Frass Canyon (Sideways)" of the Barossa Valley. They produce a lot of mass wines most educated palates graduate from after college. Today was no different. Since the restaurant didn't open for half an hour, we bellied up for a taste, not expecting much. We weren't surprised.
Like Frass Canyon the place is a marketing machine. This Summer they were touting their new line of wines called "Cool Harvest. " Basically the shtick is, they "harvest" the grapes at night when it's cooler, thus retaining the flavor of the grape. The wines are meant to be served cool, during the Summer, for maximum refreshment. Uh huh. They tasted like over chilled wines to me. Over chilled wines don't have much flavor. Postcards that looked like party invitations invited you to sample the wines along with their spokeswoman, actress Naomi Watts. The invitation was compelling, just Naomi and a couple of super models, enjoying a bottle of Cool Harvest in an ideal setting.
Basically it was the ice beer concept, only the label on the bottle doesn't turn blue when you submerge it in ice. I had to admit, it was kind of clever for what it was. I would have drank it happily before I became educated. I'd probably drink it if that's all there was. I guess the moral of the story, for me at least, is it tastes better than beer. I don't like beer.
Jacob's was a well lit, sophisticated restaurant, but the food was over-rated. It was just OK. After ten days of awesome, OK was disappointing. The rest of Jacob's cellar door, more like mega showroom, was very high tech and thoughtfully administered. There was an educational hallway in the lobby. They played outdoor movies on Friday nights while you drink Cool Harvest under the stars. They even have an effort to bring indigenous plants and animals back to the region. I guess jug wine counts for something.
Sophisticated tasting room.
No more wine.
Can I have a beer?
