Marilyn and I had an hour to waste between appointments yesterday so stopped in to Mowbray for a cup of coffee. There was a time, say twenty years ago when we first moved there, that the only food available in the town was Hungry Jack's but there has been real boom in the takeaway market in recent years. As part of its Refugee Settlement program the Australian Government singled out Launceston to take hordes of migrants from Nepal and Bhutan and they've made a real difference to the flavour of the area. The older migrants have found it hard to integrate, keeping their language and even their style of dress, but the younger ones have integrated well, getting jobs, buying cars and hanging out like the rest of us.
We met one the recent incomers yesterday at the coffee shop we went to. He took our order - two coffees and some fruit toast - and went off to prepare it. When it came, we were delighted to find that his interpretation of 'fruit toast' was a toasted sandwich, stuffed with sliced banana and pineapple. His offsider, a young Australian woman, gently took him aside to explain that the Australian version of fruit toast is a slice of bread with a touch of cinnamon and three or four sultanas. I think I prefer his take on it.
I'm reading a book by Stuart MacBride at the moment, set in Aberdeen. One of the characters is sent off to buy some takeaway: Haggis balls, a Macaroni Cheese Pie and a deep-fried Mars Bar. Hmm. I don't know what to think of that.
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