An Interface of Icons
Peter Strawhan reports on Michael Symons’s seminar "Eat the Streets: A History of Dining out in Australia"
The Ira Raymond room of the Barr Smith Library was swiftly thronged with foodies at fiveish on Thursday 8 June 2000, in eager anticipation of palate-tickling goodies courtesy of the Research Centre and mental stimulation from authorial icon and recent Harold White Fellow, Michael Symons. The many students of iconology present were hard at work noting the abundance of suitable subjects in awesome rapture. Indeed, from those less worshipful, there was a degree of embarrassment at the evidence of iconolatry pervading the gathering.
From icons to their food and wine, a chunk of Yunus Uysal’s mouth-watering pide bread, dipped in Joe Grillis’ sublime olive oil, then dunked in Russell Jeavon’s divine dukkah, plus a Warren Seymour olive or two, had this writer salivating for more of the same. A glass of Peter Lehmann’s Clancy’s cleansed the palate, then it was back into the fray to sample Maggie Beer’s rich pheasant pate, always a reminder of a pleasant lunch or two in that splendid Barossa hideaway.
More pide, this time spread with goat’s curd from Woodside Cheeses, with the obligatory Kalamata olives, plus another Clancy’s and words like "ambrosia" came to mind. Meanwhile my fellow foodies were making inroads into the rest of the cheeses and the crisp Coriole Chenin Blanc, or "the world’s best ale" from Coopers. Sadly, time, unlike the bounteous Research Centre’s food and wine, soon ran out and we were required to forego the gustatory pleasures in order to devote our attention to the central icon of the evening.
Barbara Santich, in her introduction to Michael Symons commented that she saw herself as iconoclastic rather than another of South Australian icons. Given Michael’s stated aim of breaking the received image of "the cook" as merely a kitchen menial, rather than "the breadmaker" of our society, it appears that he also is as much iconoclast as icon! Nonetheless, most of those present were delighted to be in the presence of so many local food and drink icons and/or the products of their expertise. A welcome addition to the pantheon of local icons was the fabled Gay Bilson now resident on the Fleurieu.
Michael’s infectious enthusiasm for his subject and his obvious delight at the opportunity to sample the huge range of sources at his disposal in the Australian National Library, soon had the near capacity audience on side. It came as a surprise to learn that the research for One Continuous Picnic took place in Italy, almost as far removed from Canberra as Fiji or the Solomon Islands! Among the reference works Michael discovered many little-used treasures, including an imposing work on, of all things, Townsville hotels which provided the excuse for some pleasurable field work. After ‘browsing the stacks’ for much of his stint in the capital, Michael concluded that he was in the fortunate position of being the first researcher to look seriously at dining out in Australia.
Commenting on today’s trend towards kitchenless apartments and the knee-jerk reaction of some to this ‘unwholesome’ evidence of a yet further decline in civilised values, Michael drew our attention to ancient Rome. In the eternal city, archaeological excavations appear to confirm that early Roman apartments were also minus cooking facilities, thus confirming that there is truly nothing new in this world. It leads to the inescapable conclusion that dining by the Tiber was the order of that day also. On the other hand we all know what happened to the Romans!
According to Michael, the trend towards ‘dining out’ was developing nicely in nineteenth century Australia, but ‘something went wrong’. Our inherent ‘boom and bust’ economic cycle, the forces of wowserism (culminating in the absurdity of six-o’clock closing), other restrictive government legislation, World War I and its aftermath, the ‘Great Depression’, combined to effectively stifle moves toward a freer way of life.
One of the more unwholesome aspects of Federation was the enshrinement of the ‘White Australia’ policy, which reinforced xenophobic attitudes in the community. This trend was exacerbated by government policy during the ‘Great War’ when all ‘aliens’ were fair game, among those to suffer were Greek cafe owners whose premises were firebombed.
Michael sketched some fascinating highlights from his research into the development of the ubiquitous cafe, especially in Melbourne and Sydney. The influence of Greek and then Italian immigrants in the nineteenth century and early in the twentieth resonates with the great wave of post World War II immigration and the benefits we have all enjoyed as a result.
It was perhaps no surprise to learn that our guest speaker likes nothing better than snuggling up under the duvet with a 1922 Paris restaurant guide for titillation. Question time provoked discussion on a range of topics that included the difficulties encountered in buying culinary staples like ‘proper’ cream and milk in this age of supermarkets. Sobering also to learn that the Womens Christian Temperance Union began its ultimately successful campaign for what became six o’clock closing way back in the 1830s.
Michael suggested it was high time someone said ‘sorry’ for inflicting that long-lived restriction on a culture that was in no need of such a handicap. Barbara Santich brought proceedings to a close with a vote of thanks for Michael Symons who is clearly well on the way towards yet another publishing triumph. It only remained for the stayers to return to the tables in an endeavour to despatch the last of the iconic food and drink.
Peter Strawhan is a postgraduate student in the Research Centre working on Don Dunstan and food.
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