Weekend Cooking: You say tomato....

It's not everyday that you can start a Weekend Cooking post with a Fred and Ginger moment, but I couldn't stop thinking of the song as I wrote this post, so I am sharing that earworm with you all. You can thank me in the comments.

One of the things that I love about participating in Weekend Cooking is seeing all the different foods from around the world. There are, however, lots of times when I read a post that lists ingredients and I find myself thinking either we don't have that here, or we call that something different here. 

I was reading Boomerang Bride by Fiona Lowe a couple of weeks ago which features an Australian woman who moves to America. One of the things that the author has done really well is play with the different words we use even though both countries speak English. I thought this was a really fun passage to share for Weekend Cooking. 

The quote comes from pages 98 to 100:

She immediately changed the subject to a much safer topic. "Seeing as your sister is out of town how about I cook tea for you and your nephew."

He glanced at his watch, his lips twitching. "Is your definition of cooking boiling water?"

The question came out of left field. "I'm not Jamie Oliver but I can do a bit more than boil water."

"You said you would cook tea. Isn't that just boiling water and adding a tea bag? Kyle and I are hungrier than that."

She swore she was in a parallel universe. On the surface things looked familiar, the words sounded similar and yet everything was very, very different. She put the pillows in position and explained. "I'm talking about tea, the evening meal, not a cup of tea. That's a cuppa."

He threw a quilt onto the bed. "Here it's supper."

That made sense. She often had a cup of tea and a snack before she went to bed. "So a cuppa is supper?"

"No, a cuppa isn't supper."

"You don't have a cuppa at supper?"

He grinned. "Not generally, no."

She plonked down on the now-made bed totally confused. "Then what do you have for tea?"

"Supper."

"But you said you were hungrier than that.'

He sat down next to her, his weight causing the bed to tilt her closer to him. She smelled citrus and wood mixing with all male strength and power, an intoxication combination. Then he smiled. Dimples carved into his cheeks, chasing away the serious expression he'd worn more than not since she'd met him. He looked and smelled divine and her concentration completely collapsed.

She started to laugh. Half out of confusion and half out hysteria for the crazy swirling snsations that battered her whenever she was close to him. "Let me try and get this straight. If a cuppa isn't supper and tea isn't a cuppa..." But the giggles took hold and she couldn't think at all. She fell back onto the bed, tears of laughter running down her cheeks. "I have no idea what we are talking about."

"This reminds me of Abbot and Costello's 'Who's on First?". His rich laughter joined hers as he lay back next to her, his arm brushing hers.

Delicious tingles raced up her arm but somehow she managed to splutter out, "So what's your evening meal called?"

He raised himself up on his elbow, dancing blue eyes gazing speculatively at her. "Supper is the evening meal.'

She met his look, fascinated by the multihued shards of blue. It was like looking into a kaleidoscope. "Which in Australia is a bedtime snack."

His fingers trailed across some stray strands of her hair, before tucking them gently behind her ear. "And tea in America is a drink not a meal."

Whose on first? It the evening meal dinner or tea or supper for you?

Weekend Cooking is open to anyone who has any kind of food-related post to share: Book (novel, nonfiction) reviews, cookbook reviews, movie reviews, recipes, random thoughts, gadgets, quotations, photographs. If your post is even vaguely foodie, feel free to grab the button and link up anytime over the weekend. You do not have to post on the weekend. For more information, see the welcome post.