Libby Travers

Finally, our book has landed in France and I have been able to leaf through its pages! It’s beautiful. The importance of that form is rather amazing to me - once it stops being a collection of words on a computer and becomes the sum of all its parts; from the comfort its physical presence brings while cooking to the buzz of placing it on your bookshelf among other loved cookbooks and, of course, the inevitable stains finding their own way onto the pages. In this realm, a telephone simply can not compete. I was lucky to celebrate this book’s arrival with our beautiful editor @harriet.olive in Marseille on Thursday, and I am beside myself that I will be doing likewise with @daniellemariealvarez and the rest of the team in just a couple of weeks in Sydney. The idea that the celebration will take place in Sydney’s Opera House remains surreal. Surely to write a book with your best friend is surreal enough! Nonetheless, we will be there on the 10th November, eating canapés inspired by recipes in the book, sharing a glass of wine or two and admiring Dani’s dessert table (before devouring it). We will be talking with @joanna_savill about all that went in to writing this book - an absolute career highlight. I learnt so much and I am excited to share that. Maybe you want to write your own book? Or perhaps you want to add a few more dishes to your repertoire (there are three in this book that have nudged their way into my top five!), or, like so many of us, you are also in your galette era and need some more combinations? Maybe it’s just been a while between operas and you would like to come down and wish this iconic building a happy 50. Whatever your reason, we would so love to see you there. The link’s in my bio.

What a privilege to put 20 glorious years of @icebergsdiningroomandbar into words. There are few people I enjoy working with as much as @mauriceterzini . This is not just for his intrinsic sense of hospitality, the proof of which can be found in his rich restaurant history, or his excellent taste and the Oz-Italo cuisine he’s inspired. Rather, it’s Maurice’s nature, MT is a creative gentlemen. He has absolute respect for the people he works with and their ideas, it’s incredibly liberating and empowering. I think this is why we keep celebrating him and his achievements; he asks everything of himself, but also brings out the very best in others. It was evident as I interviewed long time collaborators and architects @lazzarinipickering , carved words for the wine program w/ @reschs + @mistressofthevine surveyed the chefs who have run that kitchen over the past two decades @monty_koludrovic @jacikoludrovic @karen_martini @by_paulwilson @alexsprichard @chef_orazio and talked New Year’s Day w/ @angus_sneaky . There are so many great stories within! The book itself tells a similar tale. The beautiful photos from @derekhendersonphoto - his photos of that horizon span both the cover of the book and the two decades that came before - also the images from the delightful @nik_to and my dear mate @jasonloucas . It’s the second Icebergs book I’ve worked on with @simoneramjee pulling ALL the strings. She’s an absolute wonder. Likewise, with Jamie, Liam and the team @m35_design . It is their typography and graphics that you know from the striking posters - so thoughtfully and carefully rendered, so much a part of the icebergs DNA - they bring all that to this book, plus some. It was, conversely, the first time I had the honour to work with publisher extraordinaire @julie_gibbs and editor @pruengel . You will likely know Julie, you may not know Pru. You should know them both. I will be eternally grateful this book gave me that. So, Maurice, all of this is really a thank you. What a talent you are. What a gift you have. Grazie mille my friend and congratulations on 20 epic years at the helm. xxx PS - do buy the book. It’s available on pre-sale via booktopia. It’s stunning.

Bunches of grapes, a handful of green figs, two freshly laid eggs, salt harvested from the rocks, green olive oil - some in a re-used mineral water bottle, some drizzled over bread and sprinkled with sugar to offer me a taste of childhood, long-cooked green beans, a slice of cold, juicy watermelon …   A rugged island where hospitality is paramount: these little treasures from the owners of our hotel to the shopkeeper, the chef in our favourite taverna to the old couple sitting under their grape laden pergola. It seems the gifts of Crete are often given in culinary form – and what has long been the way to my heart appears to be just as effective for Jimmy’s. Happy, happy Cretan days.

I first spotted Poseidon in the distance, rod in hand, walking to the water. I waved, he returned the gesture. I also saw him return, jumping over the stone fence that separates his home from the sea, fish in hand. He appeared at the beach later with his two small children. They paddled in the shallows while he waded into the sea with snorkel and mask, disappearing occasionally to dive for treasures below. When he surfaced nearby he had a handful discarded urchin homes, beautiful alone, exquisite in his rough hewn hands. A gift for me, a celebration of philoxenia. #onehundredwords

One plane, a taxi, two buses, two boats. Fifteen hours. Two suitcases, one backpack, one cot, one pram. Four jabs, two PCR tests, three QR codes. And for all that palaver it was so thrilling to be back on the road: a cold beer in a tiny road house between buses in Vrisses, an old man with his twisted olive wood cane and bag of malotira, a salty kebab devoured by the sea in Sfakia, a glass of wine and shared conversation with a New Yorker while waiting for dinner at my favourite restaurant overlooking Loutro. Travel has changed. The Jimmy/Covid combination has meant it’s changed a lot. And yet the rewards remain unparalleled. The smells, the heat, the languages, the tastes, the smiles and even the scowls. It’s so nice to be back. (Having the beach to ourselves this morning was really just the cherry on the cake.)

Four months married. Five months parents. Fifteen months confined together in France. I’m happy to report most days feel just like this one (our wedding day!) did: missing the proximity of my friends and family, desperately missing the long conversations and shared meals, but eternally grateful and in awe of the technology that allows us to feel close despite the distance; enveloped in the love of someone who understands me, sometimes better than I understand myself; frantically building our home/chasing our tails/chasing Jimmy; and occasionally catching ourselves off guard with moments of absolute, pure joy. Ahh, Covid, you’re a bitch but there have been silver linings ...

Our sweet baby James.

Mi-cuit ...

Cassis in summer; colours to rival Van Dongen.

Summer in Provence. Social distancing in the markets means we are all kept one metre from the produce too. Thus no running your fingers over the tomatoes to check for firmness, no gently prodding at the base of the Cavaillon melon to confirm their desire to yield for today’s lunch, no ability to check for bruises on your peaches. . Subsequently you must choose your stall holder wisely and cultivate that friendship carefully, the success of your shopping is literally in their hands. This, of course, is a joy when successful (and bitterly disappointing when not). . Luckily, much of summer’s produce also has the most intoxicating perfume when at its best. That’s what stopped me at these strawberries. They were perfect.

Home. I seem to be collecting places to call home of late - Pantelleria, Marmara, Rayol. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m fickle or they’re fantastic. Perhaps both. Either way, here’s a new one and this one even has my name on the letterbox. She’s incredibly beautiful in the autumn light.

Parea (n.) παρέα - a Greek word denoting a close group of friends who gather together purely to enjoy each other’s company - to celebrate the everyday joys of life. I love discovering the words that belong to a culture. I also love this idea of dwelling down laneways with your friends, day after day, all the way into old age.