Tagine

I went out with a mothers' group tonight. The very name "mothers' group" might have you worried that I've joined some sort of Australian Womens' Institute, but fear not, I haven't started wearing a headscarf. The mothers' groups are the equivalent of our antenatal groups in the UK. They all had children at the same time and that's how they met.

I met Andrea in the swimming pool when we first arrived. She's from Durban in South Africa and she's married to a British nurse. She has a son, Nathan, who's two and a half and she's expecting another. And she does all of this without a car.

Andrea's a sociable sort. She's one of those people who does the organising and makes things happen. Her mother's group was meeting in the new Moroccan restaurant in Randwick last night and she generously invited me along. Now I can't say too much about this because after two glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon I blew my cover and wrote the blog address down for Yvette, who was sitting next to me. I know she'll read this, so Hello Yvette.

We had a great night, the restaurant is new and the owner is still keen, so the service was also good. He's kitted the place out by importing everything from Moroccco (right down to the tables, which are very nice but I'm sure I've seen them in The Trafford Centre). I've been walking and driving past this restaurant ever since it opened, admiring the display of Tagines in the window (a tagine is a north African cooking pot. You can buy Le Creuset ones in Selfridges but they cost a fortune). I needed one of those pots.

"Can you ask the owner where he got those tagines?"

"Morocco" came the answer. "I import all of this stuff from Marrakesh. I suppose I could get you one".

"Exactly like this one?" I said, admiring the blue and white number he'd brought from the shop window. I was staring at it in the manner of a woman with a mission.

"Well this one is unusual, it has different colours and markings". I don't really remember the explanation. All I could think was that the orange markings looked like cockroaches.

He chewed his lip and glanced at his fiancee, who has the job of setting out the displays. She was busy serving up double-brewed mint tea.

"I could sell you this one. I could let you have it for, oh, I don't know, $110".

"Done".

I went up to the counter to pay him and managed to get him to part with this lamp as well. His fiancee was having kittens. "Don't sell any more of this stuff!" she cried. "I have to replace it with something". The owner wrapped the tagine in newspaper and put it on the empty table behind us.

"Well" said Andrea. "It just goes to show, if you don't ask you don't get".