The Garden

As kids, my cousins, sister and I never paid much attention to the expansive vegetable garden in my grandparents’ small block in Preston, in Melbourne’s north. We were much more interested in the homemade swing, the chicken coop, the musty wine making cellar or the outdoor toilet with a naked lady calendar hanging on the back of the door. We crashed our billy-cart down the driveway, canopied by heavy greengage plumes and wine grapes or played under a bountiful fig tree, the figs all bagged in flesh-coloured women’s stockings to keep the birds from them. 

While we played, my Nonna and Nonno would be toiling in the garden, building their compost heap and carefully raking through row after immaculate row of all manner of veg - chillis, potatoes, broccoli rabe, zucchini, borlotti beans and lettuce. We took the beautiful salad that appeared with every meal on that plastic covered dining table as a given, never understanding the hard work that went into those crunchy leaves (who knew lettuce could be that incredible? Despite growing my own, I’ve never been able to replicate it).

Nonna’s salad dressing was nothing fancy: olive oil, sharp white wine vinegar, salt, pepper and sometimes raw garlic. Even though the salad was dressed, there were always bottles of oil and vinegar to add as you liked and the ubiquitous sliced white Vienna bread was on hand to mop up any dressing left in the salad bowl or on your plate. The love of my family and the shared dinner table began my love of salad and the simple ways we can make ingredients come alive. The importance of family is inherent in our name - ‘Little Goose’ comes from my father’s pet names for my sister and I (Goosette Number One and Goosette Number Two)!

There are many definitions of “salad” kicking around. Whether you use the freshest of ingredients like my Nonna or you are more like me and look at what needs to be used up in the fridge and pantry, my family and I hope you will make Little Goose part of your family’s mealtime for years to come.

Katie x