About the Author
Tracy Madden is a Brisbane Interior Decorator who has always had a vivid imagination and passion for family, food and books. Here she reflects on her upbringing and first encounters and subsequent love with food.
Writing this book about a passion for food was an absolute joy for me. I often think back and remember that it was funny that one of my first words ‘more’ was related to food. Years later as a young girl, I was often in trouble at the dinner table, because I always wanted to know what we were going to be eating the next day. I distinctly remember being in grade 9 and having to do an assignment in French. Of course mine was all about the food I loved. It was a piece of cake, no pun intended.
So it was only fitting that my first novel The Essential Ingredient – Love, be about the love of food and how it goes hand in hand with the seduction of life. It may have taken two years of hard work, but it was definitely a labour of love!
Now, each day it’s still relatively early in the morning when I have decided on a menu for that evening and made a shopping list for my daily trips to the market. I clearly recall a friend a couple of years ago, coming up to me at the markets saying she had been waiting outside to say hello to me, but couldn’t wait any longer as she had never seen anyone hand select each piece of fruit and vegetable the way I did with such obvious pleasure.
For me going to markets and browsing is akin to window shopping for clothes for other women. It’s a gratifying pleasure simply being surrounded by such beauty.
The food I cook for my family is filled with love and there lies the title of my book… The Essential Ingredient – LOVE!
It is a delicious read but be warned… It will leave you with a passion for the finest of food and the love of your life!
For my protector. Since I was 13 years old, he has loved, cared, encouraged and protected me. My essential ingredient – my husband Chris!
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My thanks go to my children, the powerful and beautiful Fleur and the strong and silent achiever Nick. Fleur you teach me how to dream bigger, Nick you teach me how to be a better me. To my children-in-law, Rohan and Genevieve, who give me encouragement when I need it most and more importantly, give me love. To my own family who have made me who I am today and to my many beautiful girlfriends, who bring me joy, make me laugh, share their lives and stories and always manage to love me. I am blessed to have you all in my life. Thank you all!
Chapter 1
The voice-over crackled through the airport lounge for the second time in 40 minutes. Her flight home to Brisbane had been delayed yet again. Drumming her red tipped fingers on the arm of the chair, Chilli glanced around the grey Qantas departure lounge, imagining the possibilities a colour transformation would bring, turning this busy area into a much more exciting place to wait.
Petite, with a figure totally at odds with her 43 years, and lustrous chocolate brown hair styled in a long bob with a blunt fringe, framing huge brown eyes, Chilli wore her style well. Her signature red lipstick accentuated the fullness of her upper lip and complimented the red Charlie Brown pantsuit she was wearing.
Keen to be on her way home, she glanced around once more, then gracefully locked her hands together and leant forward, stretching her back. Stifling a tiny yawn, she pulled her phone from her bag and dialled Rob, her husband. She found herself smiling into the phone as she left a message. “Just wanted to let you know that my flight’s been delayed yet again, but we should be boarding soon, landing around 7.30. And by the way, please don’t be late I’ll be starving by then. I don’t mind where we eat. See you soon, love you.”
Still smiling, Chilli snapped the phone shut. She was about to pop it back into her black Hermes bag, but it slipped from her grasp and slid under the seat. She crouched down and saw that it had landed under the seat of the woman behind her. She would have asked her to assist, but the woman had her eyes closed and looked like she was asleep. The only way to retrieve it was to kneel down on all fours and stretch out, backside in the air. It wasn’t exactly ladylike, and she was grateful that she was wearing trousers. Having reached the phone, she stood up, flicked her hair behind one ear, straightened her jacket and sat back down, just in time to see a gentleman smile briefly before he quickly looked away and sat opposite her.
Fiddling with the mass of pearls chunked at her neck, she crossed her legs, and surreptitiously looked his way. At first glance, it wasn’t hard to see he was a man with an easy style. Tall and of a solid stature, he was wearing denim jeans with tan R. M. William’s boots. She glanced away but then took a second look. His tanned face gave him an outdoorsy look. As she watched, he pulled his sleeve up to check the time and then ran a hand through his wavy hair. Chilli noticed his cufflinks. Square green jewels, not dissimilar to the ones she had recently bought from a store in Chapel Street for Rob. Every time she visited Melbourne she came home with something from that store for him. It was almost becoming an obsession.
Chilli had spent the last two days in Melbourne at Designex, a must see industry event brimming with the latest in design innovations, inspirational interiors and architectural revolutions. As a developer, it was more up Rob’s alley, but as she assisted the company with the finishes, in particular the colours, she had gone in his place.
Colour was Chilli’s thing. She was passionate about it. Always had been. At the tender age of five she was astonished to learn that not everyone saw the days of the week like she did. Hours, days, even weeks of her life were spent dreaming of colour. She had been known to design a complete interior colour scheme in her mind while lying on the floor, gazing at the ceiling. Whether she was designing, or preparing a meal, she was always harnessing a rainbow of colour.
Finally the flight to Brisbane was boarding. In her eagerness to board, Chilli jumped up, caught the heel of her Manolo Blahniks on the wheel of her case and did a little double hop, banging her shin on the corner of the bag. Righting herself with as much poise as one is able to at such an embarrassing time, she smoothed her suit and hoped no one had noticed her embarrassment.
The gentleman with the green cufflinks appeared amused. Raising her eyebrows, she shook her head and gave him the briefest of smiles.
Slinging a tan leather overnight bag over his shoulder, he returned the smile and joined the long queue.
Chilli usually loved to fly, but not only was she weary and keen to be home, her shin was now smarting and she was desperate to pull the leg of her trousers up and rub it. Once she was seated she’d take a look.
Resting her small case on the aisle seat, she pulled out some brochures to give her something to do for the next two hours. Then, with some difficulty, she attempted to hoist the case into the overhead locker. It was harder than she thought because she had gathered so many samples of weighty marble and granite, along with everything else. On her tippy toes, once again she attempted to lift and was taken by surprise when a hand came over the top and effortlessly pushed the case into place.
“You right there?” was all the tall voice said.
Turning she smiled. “Thank you.”
It was the man with the green cufflinks. “No problem,” he said, pushing his own bag into the next locker.
Chilli sat down and fastened her seat belt, wishing that everyone would board quickly and find their seats so the plane could
