King's Birthday Honours: Aussie filmmaking royalty Baz Luhrmann, Catherine Martin in the King's spotlight
It's a long way from the small town of Herons Creek to Hollywood — and to the King's Birthday Honours List.
That's been the trail taken by Australia's most commercially successful film director Baz Luhrmann, who grew up in the NSW outback town and on Monday will be appointed a Companion (AC) of the Order of Australia as part of the King's Birthday Honours List.
He's been honoured for eminent service to the arts as a filmmaker, to the theatre, to cultural heritage, and to the development of artistic talent.
'My personal journey from a small, rural town to the world stage would not have been possible but for those who came before having the vision to support the arts, allowing us to reflect our stories back to ourselves and participate in global culture as Australians,' Luhrmann said in a statement to AAP.
The 62-year-old came to prominence with 1992's Strictly Ballroom, which was his first screen collaboration with his now wife, award-winning costume designer Catherine Martin, who was responsible for the film's dazzling outfits.
Martin, who has won more Oscars than any other Australian, has also been appointed an AC.
'I am so honoured to be joining the ranks of so many illustrious Australians, whom I have admired and been inspired by,' she said.
'Being recognised in your home country is especially meaningful.'
Martin has won four Academy Awards, two each for Moulin Rouge! and The Great Gatsby, from a total of nine nominations.
She has been recognised for eminent service to the arts, to costume, production and set design, and to fostering emerging artistic talent.
After Strictly Ballroom put Luhrmann and Martin on the global stage, they followed up with the sumptuous 1996 feature Romeo + Juliet, and 2001's Moulin Rouge!.
Then came 2008's Australia starring Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman, and 2013's The Great Gatsby, with Leonardo DiCaprio in the lead role.
After a foray into television, Luhrmann returned to the big screen in 2022 with the biopic Elvis starring Austin Butler.
Martin and her team made 90 costumes for the Elvis character, and more than 9000 outfits for extras in the film's many concert scenes.
Luhrmann has most recently been in Los Angeles for Sony's Music Vision Content Showcase, which featured his release EPiC: Elvis Presley in Concert, based on previously unseen recordings.
The project is not quite a documentary or a concert film, Luhrmann told the showcase audience.
'We call it EPiC: Elvis Presley in Concert, and he will sing and tell his story like never before. He will tell it. Because what was remarkable is that we found audio of Elvis talking about his life.'
Researchers unearthed a massive 68 boxes of film negative in the Warners Bros. film vaults, as well as unseen 8mm footage of Elvis, which has since been restored.
As for projects in the pipeline, Luhrmann is reportedly working on another biopic, this time about Joan of Arc and based on a novel by fellow Australian Thomas Keneally.
Meanwhile Martin has recently directed a short film titled Grande Envie, for luxury fashion label Miu Miu's Upcycled collection.
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The Advertiser
an hour ago
- The Advertiser
I grew up idolising truckies. Now it's my turn to give them a lift
"Breaker one-nine, this is the Red Baron. Anyone got their ears on?" That was me - a kid in Melbourne's west, sitting in my bedroom, talking into a CB radio pretending I was halfway across the Nullarbor. I had no idea why I picked "Red Baron" as my handle. It just sounded cool. And when you're a kid in the '80s, that's all that mattered. Back then, I'd sit in mates' cars or at home on my radio, just hoping to catch a truckie's voice coming through the static. To me, they were the kings of the road. And if I ever got one to blast their airhorn after I did the arm pump? That was like getting a high-five from a rock star. That feeling - that admiration for the men and women who spend their lives out on the road - never left me. Working in live entertainment was no picnic. Long hours. Tight turnarounds. Big pressure to bump in, bump out, and somehow be ready to do it all again the next night. I was part of the crew setting up lights, fireworks - the whole show - for the biggest touring acts of the '90s. Guns N' Roses, Bon Jovi, U2. You name it. Now and then, I'd get asked to jump in a truck and help move gear between cities - and I'll be honest, I loved it. Being behind the wheel, out on the road, part of something big. It scratched that itch I'd had since I was a kid. But I wasn't doing it full time. What hit me was seeing the drivers who were. Blokes rolling in from Perth or Brisbane, absolutely wrecked. I remember one guy so fried from the road, we practically had to peel him off the steering wheel. A few hours later, he was back in the cab, headed to the next gig. That's when I realised - I was tired, sure. But these guys made me look like I'd been on smoko the whole time. These days, I'm lucky enough to own a few trucks. I run a business that supplies trucks to film and TV sets, so I'm never far from a diesel engine. And that means I've also become an employer of truck drivers who are the backbone of what we do. They're part of a much bigger community: more than half a million Australians who work in transport, warehousing and logistics - many of them based in regional and remote areas where support services are scarce, but the pressure is just as heavy. It's the biggest employer of men in the country. But it also ranks last for mental health. That's not a coincidence. The blokes and women I know who drive for a living work hard - often through the night, through long-haul stretches with barely a soul in sight. You want to know what fatigue looks like? Watch someone roll in after 1200 kilometres and still have to unload, rest, and prep for the return leg. And somehow do it all again the next day. The work doesn't just wear you out physically - it plays on your mind. Drivers have told me that a small worry at home can become all-consuming after 10 hours alone in the cab. With no one to talk to, your thoughts can spiral. That's the kind of pressure we're talking about here. One bloke I know said he did an entire stretch between Brisbane and Dubbo without speaking a single word to another human. Just him and the road. That silence must be deafening. I've heard stories that stick with you. Like Eno - a truckie from Coffs Harbour who came frighteningly close to taking his life, only to be saved by a stranger he'd given his last possessions to. Like many in the industry, it wasn't his first brush with suicide. Eno had lost two trucking mates in a matter of weeks. After a close work friend took his life, Eno organised a convoy through town. He expected a handful of trucks to show up. He got 130. Drivers who hadn't spoken in years came together to remember a mate - and more importantly, to reconnect with each other. READ MORE: Or CJ - a young woman who's taken on the industry in her own way and a champion on the road. She's built a community online, opened up about grief and isolation - all while clocking thousands of kilometres a week in a road train. Her honesty struck me. She wasn't trying to be inspirational. She just wanted to tell it how it is. There's no shortage of stories like theirs. And, most drivers just get on with it. They don't complain. They take pride in the job. But that doesn't mean it's easy. From all the experiences and conversations I've had there's one thing that just keeps coming back to me: if every driver and warehouse worker in Australia hit pause tomorrow because they were mentally or physically cooked ... this country would stop. Dead in its tracks. That's how essential this workforce is. If you're a truckie or warehouse worker reading this, I just want to say this: we see you. The work you do matters. And so does your health, especially your mental health. And if you're not in the industry, but you pass a truckie on the road, maybe remember: they're not in your way. They're carrying the way forward. So give 'em a nod. Or better yet - the old arm pump. You never know what that little moment might mean. And if you're ever out there, feeling the weight of the road, just know the Red Baron's still got his ears on. "Breaker one-nine, this is the Red Baron. Anyone got their ears on?" That was me - a kid in Melbourne's west, sitting in my bedroom, talking into a CB radio pretending I was halfway across the Nullarbor. I had no idea why I picked "Red Baron" as my handle. It just sounded cool. And when you're a kid in the '80s, that's all that mattered. Back then, I'd sit in mates' cars or at home on my radio, just hoping to catch a truckie's voice coming through the static. To me, they were the kings of the road. And if I ever got one to blast their airhorn after I did the arm pump? That was like getting a high-five from a rock star. That feeling - that admiration for the men and women who spend their lives out on the road - never left me. Working in live entertainment was no picnic. Long hours. Tight turnarounds. Big pressure to bump in, bump out, and somehow be ready to do it all again the next night. I was part of the crew setting up lights, fireworks - the whole show - for the biggest touring acts of the '90s. Guns N' Roses, Bon Jovi, U2. You name it. Now and then, I'd get asked to jump in a truck and help move gear between cities - and I'll be honest, I loved it. Being behind the wheel, out on the road, part of something big. It scratched that itch I'd had since I was a kid. But I wasn't doing it full time. What hit me was seeing the drivers who were. Blokes rolling in from Perth or Brisbane, absolutely wrecked. I remember one guy so fried from the road, we practically had to peel him off the steering wheel. A few hours later, he was back in the cab, headed to the next gig. That's when I realised - I was tired, sure. But these guys made me look like I'd been on smoko the whole time. These days, I'm lucky enough to own a few trucks. I run a business that supplies trucks to film and TV sets, so I'm never far from a diesel engine. And that means I've also become an employer of truck drivers who are the backbone of what we do. They're part of a much bigger community: more than half a million Australians who work in transport, warehousing and logistics - many of them based in regional and remote areas where support services are scarce, but the pressure is just as heavy. It's the biggest employer of men in the country. But it also ranks last for mental health. That's not a coincidence. The blokes and women I know who drive for a living work hard - often through the night, through long-haul stretches with barely a soul in sight. You want to know what fatigue looks like? Watch someone roll in after 1200 kilometres and still have to unload, rest, and prep for the return leg. And somehow do it all again the next day. The work doesn't just wear you out physically - it plays on your mind. Drivers have told me that a small worry at home can become all-consuming after 10 hours alone in the cab. With no one to talk to, your thoughts can spiral. That's the kind of pressure we're talking about here. One bloke I know said he did an entire stretch between Brisbane and Dubbo without speaking a single word to another human. Just him and the road. That silence must be deafening. I've heard stories that stick with you. Like Eno - a truckie from Coffs Harbour who came frighteningly close to taking his life, only to be saved by a stranger he'd given his last possessions to. Like many in the industry, it wasn't his first brush with suicide. Eno had lost two trucking mates in a matter of weeks. After a close work friend took his life, Eno organised a convoy through town. He expected a handful of trucks to show up. He got 130. Drivers who hadn't spoken in years came together to remember a mate - and more importantly, to reconnect with each other. READ MORE: Or CJ - a young woman who's taken on the industry in her own way and a champion on the road. She's built a community online, opened up about grief and isolation - all while clocking thousands of kilometres a week in a road train. Her honesty struck me. She wasn't trying to be inspirational. She just wanted to tell it how it is. There's no shortage of stories like theirs. And, most drivers just get on with it. They don't complain. They take pride in the job. But that doesn't mean it's easy. From all the experiences and conversations I've had there's one thing that just keeps coming back to me: if every driver and warehouse worker in Australia hit pause tomorrow because they were mentally or physically cooked ... this country would stop. Dead in its tracks. That's how essential this workforce is. If you're a truckie or warehouse worker reading this, I just want to say this: we see you. The work you do matters. And so does your health, especially your mental health. And if you're not in the industry, but you pass a truckie on the road, maybe remember: they're not in your way. They're carrying the way forward. So give 'em a nod. Or better yet - the old arm pump. You never know what that little moment might mean. And if you're ever out there, feeling the weight of the road, just know the Red Baron's still got his ears on. "Breaker one-nine, this is the Red Baron. Anyone got their ears on?" That was me - a kid in Melbourne's west, sitting in my bedroom, talking into a CB radio pretending I was halfway across the Nullarbor. I had no idea why I picked "Red Baron" as my handle. It just sounded cool. And when you're a kid in the '80s, that's all that mattered. Back then, I'd sit in mates' cars or at home on my radio, just hoping to catch a truckie's voice coming through the static. To me, they were the kings of the road. And if I ever got one to blast their airhorn after I did the arm pump? That was like getting a high-five from a rock star. That feeling - that admiration for the men and women who spend their lives out on the road - never left me. Working in live entertainment was no picnic. Long hours. Tight turnarounds. Big pressure to bump in, bump out, and somehow be ready to do it all again the next night. I was part of the crew setting up lights, fireworks - the whole show - for the biggest touring acts of the '90s. Guns N' Roses, Bon Jovi, U2. You name it. Now and then, I'd get asked to jump in a truck and help move gear between cities - and I'll be honest, I loved it. Being behind the wheel, out on the road, part of something big. It scratched that itch I'd had since I was a kid. But I wasn't doing it full time. What hit me was seeing the drivers who were. Blokes rolling in from Perth or Brisbane, absolutely wrecked. I remember one guy so fried from the road, we practically had to peel him off the steering wheel. A few hours later, he was back in the cab, headed to the next gig. That's when I realised - I was tired, sure. But these guys made me look like I'd been on smoko the whole time. These days, I'm lucky enough to own a few trucks. I run a business that supplies trucks to film and TV sets, so I'm never far from a diesel engine. And that means I've also become an employer of truck drivers who are the backbone of what we do. They're part of a much bigger community: more than half a million Australians who work in transport, warehousing and logistics - many of them based in regional and remote areas where support services are scarce, but the pressure is just as heavy. It's the biggest employer of men in the country. But it also ranks last for mental health. That's not a coincidence. The blokes and women I know who drive for a living work hard - often through the night, through long-haul stretches with barely a soul in sight. You want to know what fatigue looks like? Watch someone roll in after 1200 kilometres and still have to unload, rest, and prep for the return leg. And somehow do it all again the next day. The work doesn't just wear you out physically - it plays on your mind. Drivers have told me that a small worry at home can become all-consuming after 10 hours alone in the cab. With no one to talk to, your thoughts can spiral. That's the kind of pressure we're talking about here. One bloke I know said he did an entire stretch between Brisbane and Dubbo without speaking a single word to another human. Just him and the road. That silence must be deafening. I've heard stories that stick with you. Like Eno - a truckie from Coffs Harbour who came frighteningly close to taking his life, only to be saved by a stranger he'd given his last possessions to. Like many in the industry, it wasn't his first brush with suicide. Eno had lost two trucking mates in a matter of weeks. After a close work friend took his life, Eno organised a convoy through town. He expected a handful of trucks to show up. He got 130. Drivers who hadn't spoken in years came together to remember a mate - and more importantly, to reconnect with each other. READ MORE: Or CJ - a young woman who's taken on the industry in her own way and a champion on the road. She's built a community online, opened up about grief and isolation - all while clocking thousands of kilometres a week in a road train. Her honesty struck me. She wasn't trying to be inspirational. She just wanted to tell it how it is. There's no shortage of stories like theirs. And, most drivers just get on with it. They don't complain. They take pride in the job. But that doesn't mean it's easy. From all the experiences and conversations I've had there's one thing that just keeps coming back to me: if every driver and warehouse worker in Australia hit pause tomorrow because they were mentally or physically cooked ... this country would stop. Dead in its tracks. That's how essential this workforce is. If you're a truckie or warehouse worker reading this, I just want to say this: we see you. The work you do matters. And so does your health, especially your mental health. And if you're not in the industry, but you pass a truckie on the road, maybe remember: they're not in your way. They're carrying the way forward. So give 'em a nod. Or better yet - the old arm pump. You never know what that little moment might mean. And if you're ever out there, feeling the weight of the road, just know the Red Baron's still got his ears on. "Breaker one-nine, this is the Red Baron. Anyone got their ears on?" That was me - a kid in Melbourne's west, sitting in my bedroom, talking into a CB radio pretending I was halfway across the Nullarbor. I had no idea why I picked "Red Baron" as my handle. It just sounded cool. And when you're a kid in the '80s, that's all that mattered. Back then, I'd sit in mates' cars or at home on my radio, just hoping to catch a truckie's voice coming through the static. To me, they were the kings of the road. And if I ever got one to blast their airhorn after I did the arm pump? That was like getting a high-five from a rock star. That feeling - that admiration for the men and women who spend their lives out on the road - never left me. Working in live entertainment was no picnic. Long hours. Tight turnarounds. Big pressure to bump in, bump out, and somehow be ready to do it all again the next night. I was part of the crew setting up lights, fireworks - the whole show - for the biggest touring acts of the '90s. Guns N' Roses, Bon Jovi, U2. You name it. Now and then, I'd get asked to jump in a truck and help move gear between cities - and I'll be honest, I loved it. Being behind the wheel, out on the road, part of something big. It scratched that itch I'd had since I was a kid. But I wasn't doing it full time. What hit me was seeing the drivers who were. Blokes rolling in from Perth or Brisbane, absolutely wrecked. I remember one guy so fried from the road, we practically had to peel him off the steering wheel. A few hours later, he was back in the cab, headed to the next gig. That's when I realised - I was tired, sure. But these guys made me look like I'd been on smoko the whole time. These days, I'm lucky enough to own a few trucks. I run a business that supplies trucks to film and TV sets, so I'm never far from a diesel engine. And that means I've also become an employer of truck drivers who are the backbone of what we do. They're part of a much bigger community: more than half a million Australians who work in transport, warehousing and logistics - many of them based in regional and remote areas where support services are scarce, but the pressure is just as heavy. It's the biggest employer of men in the country. But it also ranks last for mental health. That's not a coincidence. The blokes and women I know who drive for a living work hard - often through the night, through long-haul stretches with barely a soul in sight. You want to know what fatigue looks like? Watch someone roll in after 1200 kilometres and still have to unload, rest, and prep for the return leg. And somehow do it all again the next day. The work doesn't just wear you out physically - it plays on your mind. Drivers have told me that a small worry at home can become all-consuming after 10 hours alone in the cab. With no one to talk to, your thoughts can spiral. That's the kind of pressure we're talking about here. One bloke I know said he did an entire stretch between Brisbane and Dubbo without speaking a single word to another human. Just him and the road. That silence must be deafening. I've heard stories that stick with you. Like Eno - a truckie from Coffs Harbour who came frighteningly close to taking his life, only to be saved by a stranger he'd given his last possessions to. Like many in the industry, it wasn't his first brush with suicide. Eno had lost two trucking mates in a matter of weeks. After a close work friend took his life, Eno organised a convoy through town. He expected a handful of trucks to show up. He got 130. Drivers who hadn't spoken in years came together to remember a mate - and more importantly, to reconnect with each other. READ MORE: Or CJ - a young woman who's taken on the industry in her own way and a champion on the road. She's built a community online, opened up about grief and isolation - all while clocking thousands of kilometres a week in a road train. Her honesty struck me. She wasn't trying to be inspirational. She just wanted to tell it how it is. There's no shortage of stories like theirs. And, most drivers just get on with it. They don't complain. They take pride in the job. But that doesn't mean it's easy. From all the experiences and conversations I've had there's one thing that just keeps coming back to me: if every driver and warehouse worker in Australia hit pause tomorrow because they were mentally or physically cooked ... this country would stop. Dead in its tracks. That's how essential this workforce is. If you're a truckie or warehouse worker reading this, I just want to say this: we see you. The work you do matters. And so does your health, especially your mental health. And if you're not in the industry, but you pass a truckie on the road, maybe remember: they're not in your way. They're carrying the way forward. So give 'em a nod. Or better yet - the old arm pump. You never know what that little moment might mean. And if you're ever out there, feeling the weight of the road, just know the Red Baron's still got his ears on.
The Advertiser
an hour ago
- The Advertiser
Kendrick Lamar announces stadium shows after Aussie fans 'flooded' DMs
Rapper Kendrick Lamar will bring his Grand National Tour to Australia after fans begged the Pulitzer Prize winner to extend his stay Down Under in December. Lamar previously announced four Australian dates in December as part of the Spilt Milk festival in Ballarat, Perth, Canberra and the Gold Coast. But now the 22-time Grammy Award winner has added Melbourne and Sydney stadium shows to his December line-up. Lamar is set to perform at Melbourne's AAMI Park on December 3 and Sydney's Allianz Stadium on December 10. The December dates were added after the Grand National Tour's Instagram page was reportedly "flooding" with requests from Australian fans. General sale tickets to the Grand National Tour shows are available from 9am on June 16 for Sydney shows and 11am on June 16 for Melbourne shows. The tickets will be available through the tour's website. Presale tickets will be available to Vodafone customers from June 12. Lamar is riding a wave of success after his diss track against Drake, Not Like Us, won five Grammy Awards in 2025, including Record of the Year and Song of the Year. Rapper Kendrick Lamar will bring his Grand National Tour to Australia after fans begged the Pulitzer Prize winner to extend his stay Down Under in December. Lamar previously announced four Australian dates in December as part of the Spilt Milk festival in Ballarat, Perth, Canberra and the Gold Coast. But now the 22-time Grammy Award winner has added Melbourne and Sydney stadium shows to his December line-up. Lamar is set to perform at Melbourne's AAMI Park on December 3 and Sydney's Allianz Stadium on December 10. The December dates were added after the Grand National Tour's Instagram page was reportedly "flooding" with requests from Australian fans. General sale tickets to the Grand National Tour shows are available from 9am on June 16 for Sydney shows and 11am on June 16 for Melbourne shows. The tickets will be available through the tour's website. Presale tickets will be available to Vodafone customers from June 12. Lamar is riding a wave of success after his diss track against Drake, Not Like Us, won five Grammy Awards in 2025, including Record of the Year and Song of the Year. Rapper Kendrick Lamar will bring his Grand National Tour to Australia after fans begged the Pulitzer Prize winner to extend his stay Down Under in December. Lamar previously announced four Australian dates in December as part of the Spilt Milk festival in Ballarat, Perth, Canberra and the Gold Coast. But now the 22-time Grammy Award winner has added Melbourne and Sydney stadium shows to his December line-up. Lamar is set to perform at Melbourne's AAMI Park on December 3 and Sydney's Allianz Stadium on December 10. The December dates were added after the Grand National Tour's Instagram page was reportedly "flooding" with requests from Australian fans. General sale tickets to the Grand National Tour shows are available from 9am on June 16 for Sydney shows and 11am on June 16 for Melbourne shows. The tickets will be available through the tour's website. Presale tickets will be available to Vodafone customers from June 12. Lamar is riding a wave of success after his diss track against Drake, Not Like Us, won five Grammy Awards in 2025, including Record of the Year and Song of the Year. Rapper Kendrick Lamar will bring his Grand National Tour to Australia after fans begged the Pulitzer Prize winner to extend his stay Down Under in December. Lamar previously announced four Australian dates in December as part of the Spilt Milk festival in Ballarat, Perth, Canberra and the Gold Coast. But now the 22-time Grammy Award winner has added Melbourne and Sydney stadium shows to his December line-up. Lamar is set to perform at Melbourne's AAMI Park on December 3 and Sydney's Allianz Stadium on December 10. The December dates were added after the Grand National Tour's Instagram page was reportedly "flooding" with requests from Australian fans. General sale tickets to the Grand National Tour shows are available from 9am on June 16 for Sydney shows and 11am on June 16 for Melbourne shows. The tickets will be available through the tour's website. Presale tickets will be available to Vodafone customers from June 12. Lamar is riding a wave of success after his diss track against Drake, Not Like Us, won five Grammy Awards in 2025, including Record of the Year and Song of the Year.
7NEWS
3 hours ago
- 7NEWS
Annabel Bower celebrates the King's Birthday Long Weekend with delicious recipes inspired by royalty
Annabel Bower is an Australian chef and food stylist that lives in Adelaide. She trained at Ballymaloe Cookery School which is a famous cooking school in Ireland. Today, she is going to showcase three delicious royal desserts: Classic Eton Mess Treacle tart (made from breadcrumbs and golden syrup – it was a family favourite for the Mancroft family) Buttermilk chocolate cake Recipe below: Classic Eton Mess by Annabel Bower @foodbyannabel Said to have originated at the famously proper Eton College and traditionally served at their annual cricket match against Harrow, this glorious jumble of berries, cream and crumbled meringue is as posh as it is imperfect—like many a British institution, really. And let's be honest, it's the perfect dessert for an Aussie gathering too—if your pavlova takes a tumble, don't panic. Just call it Eton Mess and carry on like royalty. Ingredients For the meringues 3 egg whites 1 cup castor sugar Raspberry Coulis 300gm frozen raspberries, defrosted. 1 tablespoon icing sugar 1 tablespoon Cointreau To assemble 500gm fresh strawberries, sliced thinly 200gms fresh raspberries - or any other fruit in season i.e. pomegranate, cherries. 200ml thickened cream 1tsp pure vanilla bean paste 1Tbs castor sugar 150gm Sour cream/ crème fraiche or mascarpone Equipment Stand or hand-held beater/mixer 2 flat baking trays lined with baking paper Metal ice-cream scoop Glass trifle bowl Method Preheat oven to 120 degrees (not fan forced, use the bake or top/bottom heat setting). Line 2 flat trays with baking paper. Using a stand mixer or hand-held electric beater, whisk egg whites until they become thick and opaque. When they start to form stiff peaks whisk in castor sugar, 1 tablespoon at a time. Continue until all the sugar has dissolved. Whisk for a further 30 seconds on high until thick and creamy. Using an old-fashioned ice-cream scoop, place golf ball – or tennis ball size dollops of meringue mixture onto the lined baking trays, evenly spaced. For individual desserts make smaller meringues, for a shared dessert make the bigger ones. Bake for 1 hour at 120 degrees, shutting the oven door carefully so as not to knock any air out of the meringues. After an hour, do not open the oven door, just turn off the oven and leave the meringues to cool in the oven over night or for the rest of the day. When cool remove from oven and gently transfer to an airtight container until day of serving. The meringues can be made 1-2 weeks ahead if stored in a cool dark spot. Just before serving whip the thickened cream until soft peaks form, stir in sugar and vanilla. Mix through sour cream/crème fraiche or mascarpone until smooth. Push the defrosted raspberries through a fine sieve to remove the seeds, stir through icing sugar and Cointreau to create a coulis. Slice the strawberries – you can add an extra dash of Cointreau to these if you like. To serve, layer a trifle dish or individual glass cups of bowls with all the elements, crushing the meringue as you go. Swirl to mix and eat as soon as possible. Annabel's Favorite Chocolate Cake by Annabel Bower @foodbyannabel This is my never-fail, always-devoured, 'can I lick the bowl?' chocolate cake. It made its first appearance in an English country house kitchen, baked for the three mischievous little ones I nannied, and has since become the star of every birthday bash for my own four children back home in Australia. Rich, fudgy, and impossibly moreish, it walks the line between classic English high-tea and Aussie backyard BBQ. It's the kind of cake that disappears before the candles have cooled—and honestly, it's so good you might find yourself baking it for no reason at all... and that's entirely encouraged. Ingredients 125gms butter, softened 1 cup castor sugar 2 eggs 1 Tbs vanilla bean paste 2/3 cup cocoa, sifted 1 cup milk + 2tsp balsamic vinegar* OR 1 cup + 2tsp buttermilk 1 ½ cups self-raising flour, sifted ½ cup hot water or hot coffee *The milk will curdle when you add the vinegar – this is supposed to happen! Icing 200gms Milk or dark chocolate (or a mix of both) 75gms butter To decorate – fresh berries and flowers or chocolates and sprinkles. This recipe is perfect for doubling – just make sure you've got a big enough bowl! Equipment 1 x 24cm springform cake tin, greased and base lined with baking paper Stand or hand-held beater/mixer. Method Preheat oven to 160 degrees Celsius. Add the vinegar to the milk and set aside. In a large bowl beat butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Then add the eggs, one at a time making sure the first is fully incorporated before adding the second. Next add the vanilla and sift in the cocoa powder. Incorporate on a low speed. Add the milk, flour and water (or coffee) and beat on a low speed until smooth and velvety. Pour into you greased and lined cake tin and bake for 45-60 minutes. You will know the cake is cooked when the centre is no longer wobbly and you can pierce the centre of the cake with a skewer and it comes out clean. If the top of the cake begins to brown before the centre is cooked, loosely cover it with foil to prevent it from burning. Turn out onto a wire rack and allow to cool before icing. The cake can be made in advance and stored in the fridge or freezer. Icing To make the icing simply melt together the butter and the chocolate. Either in the microwave in 30 second bursts, stirring in between each one or on the stove top on a very low heat stirring constantly. When melted it will become smooth and glossy, keep stirring once you remove it from the heat allowing it to cool slightly. Then pour over the cake starting in the centre, allowing the chocolate to drip down the sides. Decorate with fresh berries, or chocolates. Treakle Tart by Annabel Bower @foodbyannabel I'd never made a Treacle Tart until I found myself cooking in a grand Gloucestershire kitchen for The Lord and Lady Mancroft. Gooey, golden and outrageously sweet, it quickly became a Sunday staple—especially requested by Lord Mancroft himself, usually after a morning of polo, fox hunting, or some other thoroughly British pursuit. Known affectionately as a 'nursery pudding,' this tart is the kind of comfort food that makes you feel like you've earned a second slice… even if the only galloping you've done is to the table. Ingredients Pastry Shell 300gms sweet shortcrust pastry. Homemade or high-quality store bought. Filling 400gms golden syrup 1 lemon, zest grated 2 eggs, beaten 100gms fresh white breadcrumbs – made from fresh white bread with crusts cut off in a food processor. 1 tsp flaked sea salt or Maldon salt (optional) To serve Ice cream or clotted cream Equipment 22cm Tart baking tin with removable base, 1 baking tray for the tart tin to sit on. Food processor for breadcrumbs Baking beans – ceramic beads used to weigh down pastry during 'blind baking' which means baking a tart shell without its filling. Method Heat the oven to 200 degrees Celsius. Roll the chilled pastry out to a thickness of 0.5-0.75cm. Gently transfer into tart tin, pressing into the base and sides to form a tart shell. Chill again if it has become warm. Cover with baking paper which generously overhangs the edges of the pastry and tart tin. Fill with 'baking beans' or dried pulses or rice. Place tart tin on a baking tray. Bake for 15 minutes then carefully remove the paper and beans and bake for a further 10 minutes or until the pastry is golden brown. Leave in oven and lower the temperature to 160 degrees Celsius. Mix together the filling whist the tart shell is being prebaked. Combine the golden syrup, lemon zest, eggs and breadcrumbs and whisk until there are no lumps. Carefully pull the baking tray with the tart tin out of the oven and pour in the filling. Gently shake to evenly distribute but be careful not to spill any down the sides of the pastry shell. Sprinkle with flaked salt if using. Bake for 35-40 minutes or until just set. Cool for 20 minutes before slicing. Serve with clotted cream, crème fraiche or ice cream – vanilla or chocolate!
