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RECIPES FAMILY QUIZ GARDENING SPACE

IT seems an eternity now since they declared last drinks at the “Lewie”. The Lewisham Tavern became my local more than a year ago when I moved to the Southern Beaches down Dodge City way.

It was once a famous rock and roll pub. In the seventies all the big Australian acts, including Cold Chisel, played there. Now it’s just a quiet local, except when it’s a noisy local. It’s a million miles from my old haunt at the Shipwrights Arms in Battery Point, but I chose the “Lewie” not for its 1960s lavatory-modern architectural style, but for the great view – a vista so marvellous it makes the look of the joint matter not one jot.

It might be the best view from any Tasmanian pub. From the bar you gaze west across the narrows where Pitt Water joins Frederick Henry Bay, and where a charming and motley collection of moored boats tilt and ride in brilliant sunsets.

On the far shore glows the bright white sandy tip of the eastern end of Seven Mile Beach.

Beyond all this rises a distant uplands panorama, with Mt Wellington magnificent in the centre of frame. I usually genuflect to political correctness whenever I mention the mountain (if I don’t, my editor usually does it for me) but I have never heard anyone in the “Lewie” refer to “kunanyi/ Mt Wellington”.

It’s not that kind of place. But the Lewie did keep up with current events and in the days BC (Before Corona) we watched the six o’clock news with growing apprehension as the plague came out of China and spread around the world.

No one doubted it was headed our way, and that if it didn’t herald the end of the world it might certainly threaten the end of the famous Friday night drinks at the “Lewie”.

Which is almost as bad. On that last Friday night at the Lewie, when it was clear the end was nigh, I was reminded of the 1959 movie On the Beach, with Gregory Peck and Ava Gardner.

The plot is set in the aftermath of nuclear war, with Australia the last place on earth to succumb to the deadly clouds of radiation. Just before the world ends, there is a pub scene where the locals sing Waltzing Matilda. But that’s not how it was at the Lewie. As I said, it’s not that kind of place.

Instead, there was a traditional meat-tray valedictory raffle and I won a chook and a six-pack. I had no idea at the time how long that would have to last.

Towards the end days, there was some apprehension that breweries might have to close, causing a catastrophic shortage of beer. There was some panic buying, but nothing like the shameful hoarding of lavatory paper, by contrast indicating the innate sharing generosity and decency of beer drinkers everywhere.

Contrary to all the worst fears, this week came news that actually beer was in vast oversupply. Because of the lockdown, tens of thousands of kegs of unwanted beer have been piling up in pubs around the nation.

Beer has a short use-by date, and millions of litres have already been poured down the drain. The five or even 10 million litre figures bandied about seem such an abstract figure.

This week, helpfully, the industry much more dramatically translated the loss so far as more than 25 million schooners.

Now that is a lot of beer. As a thirsty nation now eagerly contemplates the reopening of pubs, our Australian brewers are faced with the task of a massive restocking. The question is, will the breweries which have for weeks been producing only bottled and canned beer be able to gear up quickly enough to refill those 25 million schooners?

To make a lot of beer you need a lot of barley, and just now we look like having heaps to spare.

Each year we sell about $1.5 billion worth of barley to China. But this is now in contention after the PM had the temerity to suggest that China ought to co-operate with an international scientific inquiry into the origin of the COVID-19 plague.

The Chinese retaliation to ScoMo’s request has been the threat to punish Australian exporters of grain, wine, fruit and meat.

In respect of the 200,000 tonnes of barley we sell to China, that threat is a crippling 80 per cent tariff which might ruin our billion dollar export industry.

Apparently, the suggestion that China had anything at all to do with the plague was so outrageous, Australia just had to be punished.

The Chinese state-run Global Times has described Australia as “chewing gum on the sole of China’s shoe”.

Now that isn’t some belligerent Chinese opinion columnist sounding off.

There is no free journalism

IT’S A MILLION MILES FROM MY OLD HAUNT AT THE SHIPWRIGHTS ARMS IN BATTERY POINT, BUT CHOSE THE “LEWIE” NOT FOR ITS 1960S LAVATORYMODERN ARCHITECTURAL STYLE, BUT FOR THE GREAT VIEW — A VISTA SO MARVELLOUS IT MAKES THE LOOK OF THE JOINT MATTER NOT ONE JOT.

I

there, so be assured this was the official voice of the regime.

Although it is a little hurtful, it is also invaluable to know what they really think.

You don’t always hear such direct speaking from those seductive Chinese companies so generously offering to buy up large tracts of Tasmania.

The barley we sell to China ends up mainly in one place; in the excellent and world famous Tsingtao beer.

Back in November, that brewing company told The Weekly Times they bought Australian simply because our barley was “the best quality”.

Tsingtao has always been one of my favourite imported beers.

But now the chewing gum on my shoe is leading me to think seriously about changing a whole range of consumer habits – and no longer drinking Chinese beer is just one of them.