One terminal rarely serves one person. How to tier traffic, wire the fixed devices and prove where the bandwidth went before blaming the dish.
Half a zucchini, a cob of corn and three eggs is all it takes to make a camp morning feel like a cafe breakfast. One bowl, one pan, twenty minutes.
The humblest dinner in the camp kitchen, done properly: snags browned on the flat plate, capsicum and onion softened in the same fat, bread to mop it all up.
Stone fruit season is short, and this is the lunch that makes the most of it: charred chicken and squeaky halloumi over rocket, eaten in the shade of the awning.
No oven, no coals, no washing up. Four jars of lemon and passionfruit cheesecake that set themselves in the fridge while you are out doing something better.
