When I was a child I was really envious of my Mother who always announced at the end of the school holidays that the day we returned to school, she was going to meet with her friend Beth Burke, have a relaxing cuppa, a pastie and a kitchener bun.
For my American friends, a pastie is not the small covering of important bosom parts of a lady of the night, it’s a meat and vegetable filled pastry which is eaten with ketchup. A kitchener bun is like a large donut filled with fresh cream… I found this description......
"A Kitchener bun is similar to a berliner and can typically be found in South Australia. It consists of two halves of sponge cake, filled with jam and cream. Allegedly its name was changed during WW1 to honour Lord Kitchener. At that time many small towns in South Australia also changed names from those of German origin."
For Mum, it seemed like her right of passage, her freedom ticket after having kids under her feet during the long hot summers in Elizabeth. But I envied her so much… I don’t ever think I ever had the two elicit things in combination….
Well, I’ve had a hard week and yesterday I put the finishing touches to my Trip to South Africa… (that means I paid the money) I visited Keith’s office and it happened to be lunch time. Keith and Co were having a business lunch so I walked down to the local baker 3 doors down to buy a celebratory pastie…. And lo and behold there in front of me beckoning was a huge kitchener bun… right in the front of the shelf…
So when I returned home, I made a cup of coffee, turned on the TV, put my legs up and relished my pastie and shared my kitchener with an insistent pup thinking all the time of 50 years ago and Mum and her friend doing the same thing.
"She Ignored people who said it couldn't be done" Celebrate her independence
