I settled in my suburb because community is a little more central here than in many other places.
It was built following “Garden Suburb” principles, aimed at giving soldiers returning from the Second World War a community to raise families. Most houses were located within walking distance of one or two parks or green spaces, houses are set well back from the road with wide green verges and generally are modest and timber-framed within ample yards. Many, like my family, now live in infill housing in what used to be gloriously large suburban back yards.
Streets curve with easy sight-lines instead of being laid out in a grid, and radiate out from a central oval block at the heart of the suburb containing:
- a primary school
- a large permaculture housing collective
- Aboriginal kindergarten
- kid’s playground
- senior’s village
- community garden
- child health centre
- Police and Citizen’s Youth Centre
- toy library;
- and a very understated community hall that was built with money raised by the local Progress Association in the 1950s.
So, it should surprise no-one that last night I walked down to the community hall with my adult son and shared a fabulous community long table meal with my neighbours.
Called “Cooking from Home Community Dinners”, a group of nine people from different cultures had earlier completed a course at a local neighbourhood house where they learned to cook each other’s favourite traditional dishes. This was food that was maybe comforting as a child, or unique to their culture, meals that they do not necessarily have occasion to share every day since they have been in Australia.
Over three nights in the last three months, the group has worked with a chef to serve a feast of selected dishes to the local community. We get to hear the stories of love behind each dish. And to sit with strangers and neighbours and maybe talk about the food-inspired questions to share our stories. “Who is the best cook in your household?”, “What was your favourite food as a child”, “What is your cultural background and do you practice any traditions now?”
In the last Federal election, 30% of voters at the local primary school voted for the Greens (compared to 16% for LNP), so this was naturally a zero-waste affair. The local primary school kids drew large tablecloths for many of the tables, and the others were covered with eclectic and funky op-shop kinds of table-cloths. 220 cloth napkins had been sourced via a no-waste community forum. Crockery, cutlery and glassware had been lent by locals, and we were all asked to bring our own coffee mug if we wanted a drink at the end of the night. Some dishes were served in bowls made from disposable leaves. At the end of the night, everyone stacked their plates and cutlery before leaving, and some of us stayed behind to clear tables and glasses.
And, of course, during the open mic in the middle of the evening where people could share, a local theatre director speculated about creating a work around culture and food in collaboration with the TAFE English as a Second Language teacher who happened to be seated next to him. And another person shared how the Repair Cafe movement fits beautifully with the philosophy of the evening.
Last night’s menu? We started with Cumin Puris from Rekha from Fiji and Bakwan fritters from Indonesian Martha. Francesca from Rome provided gnocchi with tomato sauce, followed by Martha’s Babi Kecap with pork, Rekha’s Gujarati curry with chicken and Vera from Indonesia’s Urab salad with coconut. For dessert? Francesca returned with Tiramisu.
To acknowledge the cultural traditions of the cooks, the evening started with a live performance of a mask dance from Fiji, followed by Bollywood dance clips on the screen over mains, and then an Italian duo with accordion and loud, joyous whoops as part of the vocals. You can see them near the stage on the very left of the panorama below.
My tummy, and my cup, is full.