Another Fall of Rain
words by John Nielsen
One of my favorite bush ballads. The connection with the story is skill. In a room full of Grandma cooks, my Grandma would've rung the kitchen.
Oh, the weather had been sultry for a fortnight's time or more
And the shearers had been working might and main.
Some had got the century that ne'er got it before
And now all hands are waiting for the rain.
Chorus
Oh, the boss is getting rusty and the ringer's caving in
And his bandaged wrist is aching with the pain,
And the second man, I fear, will make it hot for him
Unless we have another fall of rain.
Some had taken quarters and were coiling in their bunks
Since we shore the six-tooth wethers from the plain,
And if the sheep get harder then a few more men will funk
Unless we have another fall of rain.
Chorus
Some cockies come here shearing I could write a little book
About the hard dry weather for the plain
But here is lunch a-coming now make way for Dick the cook.
Old Dick, he's near as welcome as the rain.
Chorus
But the sky is clouding over and the thunder's muttering loud
And the clouds are driving eastward o'er the plain,
And I see the lightening flashing on the edge of yon dark cloud,
I hear the gentle patter of the rain.
So, Lads, put on your stoppers and let us to the hut,
We'll gather 'round and have a friendly game
While some are playing music and some play ante-up
And some are gazing outward at the rain.
Now the rain is over, let the pressers spin their screws,
Let the teamsters back their wagons in again,
We'll block the classer's table by the way we push them through,
For everything is merry since the rain.
The boss he won't be rusty when his sheep they are all shorn
The ringer's wrist won't ache much with the pain
Of pocketing a season's cheque of fifty quid or more
And the second man will press him hard again.
So, boss, bring out the bottle and we'll wet the final flock
For the shearers here may never meet again.
Some may meet next season and some not even then,
And some they will just vanish like the rain.
Kitchen Skills
Grandma was an excellent cook and her skills in the kitchen were exemplary.
Grandma’s knives were always razor sharp. More than once, I drew blood while drying a knife. I think my grandfather kept them honed for her, but I do remember her taking a long-bladed knife outside and honing it on the shingles on the side of the house.
Commonly at Grandma’s house, there were round loaves of fresh bread, which Grandma sliced by holding the loaf against her chest on its rim, and drawing the knife towards her to carve off a slice, tapering off halfway to finish the slice, despatching the bread onto a plate, and flipping the loaf around to carve it from the other side.
Grandma in 1980
Another skill she had was to peel a potato with a paring knife, the peel coming off in one unbroken ribbon. When she was making French fries (more accurately Belgian fries), she would have a stack of peeled potatoes ready to go. She would pick one up, cup it in her hand, and, holding it sort of sideways, slice it into about 4 thick layers. Then she would point her hand upwards, and crosscut the spud, dropping neat fingers of spud into the hot fat.
I never learned to use a knife the way my grandmother did. I learned a lot from her, though, mostly by watching and taking note when she asked me to help.
If you asked her for a recipe, she gave you a ball park overview. She would read recipes in newspapers and magazines but she didn’t take them literally. I learned basic techniques of how ingredients work together to achieve desired textures and flavors, and how to use the items in the pantry to assemble a meal or a dessert.
She never taught my mother to cook. Mum told me she was a bit of a tom boy, and spent a lot of her time outdoors, either with friends or with her father. Also, her parents were convinced she was destined to be more than a housewife. So, when Mum found herself mistress of the house at the age of nineteen, she was often on the phone to her mother asking for cooking advice.
Mum became an excellent cook but she was heavily reliant on recipes. She once told me she considered me a better cook because I was better at improvising. I was pretty pleased with that!
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FYI, the Belgian technique for making French fries, aka chips, is to partially fry the potato pieces and set them aside. The oil cools off during this process. Allow the oil to come up to heat again and drop in a batch of fries. They will quickly turn golden-brown. Scoop them out quickly, wait a few seconds, drop in the next batch and repeat. You can produce quite a large amount of hot fries relatively quickly, and they are fluffy inside and crisp on the outside!
