March 10

An unexpectedly early start. I have mislaid my travelling alarm - still can't find it now that I have returned to NZ - so was relying on my watch. This displays dual time zones so was set to both Melbourne and Wellington times. I had set the alarm to Melbourne times without realising that it would actually go off at Wellington time - ie two hours early, about 5 am. I did manage to return to sleep.

Breakfast in the hotel was splendid but, having been forewarned about the food that would be on offer later in the day, I was very restrained and only had a little smoked salmon and  smoked cheese with a couple of slices of bread.   Left: A restrained breakfast

We assembled in the lobby at 8.15 and were aboard the bus and on the road by 8.35. Our guide was a food journalist, who produced the food section for The Age and who had been brought up on the Mornington Peninsula, our ultimate destination. I did take some photos of him but, unfortunately, none of them came out properly. He warned us that the first hour of the journey would be through traffic and through the boring suburbs. This was a fair assessment of the situation.

Limited photo opportunities on the bus	Fake hotel by the roadside
Development land	Suburbia spreads onto the Peninsula

Scattered along the sides of the freeway were a series of artworks, provided to entertain the motorists and, presumably, annoy the taxpayers. I managed to catch a couple of them, although getting sharp moving images from a fast moving bus was well beyond me.

We passed an area of farmland which has now been re-zoned for industrial development and will probably have vanished under factories within the next ten years. Melbourne covers a huge geographical area and it is still growing.

The Mornington Peninsula is now a highly developed holiday area. The coastal areas are largely built up, leaving the central spine for more rural pursuits. This spine comprises three rocky outcrops, Arthur's Seat, at about 1000 feet and Mounts Martha and Eliza, at about 500. They have contributed to the development of very free draining soils, ideal for grape growing. Whilst the soil is good, the climate is rather humid, making it a far from ideal place for vineyards. In spite of this, there are over 60 of them, which have developed over the last couple of decades.

Mounts Martha and Eliza would hardly qualify as mountains in New Zealand, being little more than small hills. They did experience a small gold rush in the 19th century but almost all evidence of this has now vanished. There are even regular small earthquakes on the Peninsula but most of them are too small to be noticed.

Our carriage for the day
Some was both pretty and edible	Not everything was edible

After about an hour and a half on the road, we piled out of the coach at Heronswood Gardens and Nursery. It is home to The Diggers Club, an organisation which promotes the use and preservation of heritage seeds and plants. The gardens were stunning, showing all manner of fruit and vegetables and, perhaps most interesting of all, new methods of cultivating land, particularly small plots.

There was a small garden centre, although most of the sales are via the internet.

The tearooms were excellent. Whilst the coffee wasn't up to New Zealand standards, the scones, cream and jam were amongst the best I have tasted outside of the West of England.

	A small garden centre
Beautiful old house	The scones, cream and jam ...
… were as good as I have tasted	The coffee wasn’t brilliant

Yabby Lake isn't normally open to the public but we had strings pulled for us. The vineyard has been operating for about 13 years in an idyllic location up a narrow lane from the main road. We arrived to find that, in spite of the slightly miserable weather, a long table had been laid for us, with a starched table cloth, fine glassware, mineral water and tasting notes.

On a small side table was a huge bowl of strawberries and three local cheeses. It was like a scene from the Food Channel, with important visitors being welcomed at a chateau. To greet us were the wine maker, the marketing director and several others who, alas, I can no longer name.

Cheese ...	… and strawberries
The winemaker spoke	And we all enjoyed ourselves

We tasted the wines, ate the cheese and fruit, listened to an informative talk on the history and future prospects of the vineyard and generally enjoyed ourselves. There was excitement when kangaroo(s?) were spotted over the back fence but I failed to see them. The two Chardonnays were very dry and austere. The top one, Yabby Lake, will take years to reach its prime.

The Red Claw, the entry level, was also very dry but much more approachable at this stage. The two pinots were similar in that the Red Claw was much more approachable. The quality of the hospitality was unbelievable.

At this stage, a slight problem appeared. My special food lens started to become very stiff and finally jammed solid. A visit to a camera shop in the morning will be on the agenda.

Realising that after early morning tea and then late elevenses, lunch was soon due, we piled back into the coach and drove a few miles down the lanes to the charmingly named "Ten Minutes by Tractor".  Apparently, the name originated from the fact that the winery had several vineyards in the immediate area, all of which were "ten minutes by tractor" apart from each other. There were several places along the route where, if I had been driving myself, we would have stopped for photos. When on a coach tour, such luxuries aren't always possible.

Ten Minutes by Tractor

We enjoyed an interesting, though not exciting, wine tasting. By New Zealand standards, the wines were expensive. The Chardonnays, for instance, were considerably more expensive than Rifleman's but of nothing near the same quality. Perhaps I have been in New Zealand too long and am losing the taste for other wines.

A good selection to chose from	We tasted lots

We stared at the wonderful views from windows and waited while our food was prepared. When it did arrive, it was well worth the wait. It was definitely up to the standards of all of the other meals on the trip. Whilst it was only a small place and there were others eating in the restaurant, the service was excellent. The food all arrived from the kitchen at the same time and in perfect condition. For the duration of the trip, I don’t think that we encountered service that was anything short of excellent.

Beautiful view through the window

The menu offered us a choice of “beginnings” or “middles”. I’m not sure I liked the style but, with food as good as this, I will excuse the menu writer’s peculiarities! The Beginnings choices were:

Char grilled tuna, Flinders tomato, eggplant caviar, kipfler potato, salsa verde with a 2009 The Story Arneis.

I’m afraid that I didn’t photograph this option. Obviously, no one near me chose it.

This was my choice and it was beautiful. Quail is not something that I have often eaten but this was tender and full of flavour. Even the quail’s egg on top was cooked to perfection.

For middles, the options were:

Blue Mountain duck breast, cherry puree, sweet potato, bitter chocolate jelly, native pepperberry sauce with 2008 Ten Minutes by Tractor Wallis Vineyard Pinot Noir. This was another dish that I neglected to photograph.

I had the pork, which was a trifle dry (that's really nitpicking). It might have been better with a slightly fattier cut, perhaps belly rather than loin. The flavours surrounding it were stunning. Finding fault with any of it was really doing the whole meal an injustice. Those who had the barramundi raved about it. All of the dishes were beautifully presented.

More heavily wooded lanes led us off the hill and down towards the coast. We passed some very posh houses and a few smaller ones hidden in the woods.

Merricks General Store
Merricks	The village post box

After another 20 minute drive, we arrived at Merricks General Store, (in the village of Merricks) first built in 1924. It was surrounded by countryside and sported a gloriously bright post box outside.

The old shop is lined with wine bottles, is the cellar door for several vineyards, has a restaurant and a stupendous display of cakes. We sampled the former - yet again, they weren't that exciting - and were given several plates of the latter. This being the fifth meal of the day, we didn't make too much of a dent in them and soon had to stagger back to the coach for the long journey home.

Many of us slept for a fair proportion of the trip so there wasn't much to report.

Feeling both exhausted and rather full, I had the usual rest, shower and change. None of this actually made me feel much better so I joined the others in the lobby not feeling particularly like an evening's entertainment.

A 20 minute taxi drive, largely following the river, a very pretty route, took us all to Tony Tan's house in the leafy suburb of Toorak. The building was reminiscent of a Mediterranean property but with timber rather than tile floors. There was a small courtyard which, I was pleased to see, contained a very healthy looking kaffir lime tree. I hope mine does as well - although my cliff top in Porirua may not be as conducive to its welfare as a leafy Melbourne suburb.

A very healthy kaffir lime

Inside the cookery school	An evening of food and conversation

We were escorted around the small cookery school and then settled into an evening of food and conversation.

The food was a glorious mix of Spanish, Vietnamese and Chinese. If one includes the final denouement, an exceedingly alcoholic tiramisu, there was Italian as well. How Tony managed to produce such a wonderful spread whilst fully occupied on the management committee of the Food Festival is something of a mystery.

He did have assistance from two very hardworking young ladies in the kitchen and some of us were inveigled in there to help with chopping and slicing etc etc. I tried to record everything but, without my food lens I missed some things & had to pinch some photos from Wayne to fill in the gaps. Neither of us got photos of the kitchen staff. A shame as their efforts deserved to be recorded. Right: Temporary kitchen staff - is he a Doctor or a surgeon?

We started with a Spanish theme, olives; peppers stuffed with salt cod (not my favourites); Jamon Iberico and Manchego - both frighteningly expensive but beautiful;  and, finally, chickpeas with black pudding and chorizo.

The Italian finish	Our host and our tour leader

The denouement came in the form of wildly alcoholic tiramisu. It tasted amazing but it was just as well that we were all heading home by taxi.

All of the food was, of course, accompanied by wine, partly supplied by Tony and partly by Ruth.

After the food, we enjoyed conversation. In addition to being a master chef, Tony is a born entertainer - in several languages - and a conversationalist extra ordinaire.

The portrait version	The portrait and the real thing
And again	Ruth - without whom none of this would have been possible

He spent some time holding forth in front of a wonderful portrait of himself, by Sally Robinson, an English born Australian, that hangs on his wall, a powerful backdrop.

To repeat much of the conversation would result in law suits of varying sorts. It was a fascinating and unforgettable evening. Definitely one of the highlights of the trip. We bade farewell, poured ourselves back into a number of taxis and made it back to the hotel slightly earlier than last night. At least it was before midnight.