Recently, when I read Livia Day’s A Trifle Dead, I discovered a sub-genre of novels previously unknown to me: culinary crime. Across our planet, a move from selfies to photographing what you eat is trending. And so many of us think about food all the time and love to see colour on our plates. As a result, I am inspired to take a break from the chronological postings about my last walk and introduce a food which barely has a connection with my walk.
An earlier blog post showed me passing the property Linden. Over the Derwent River from Linden is the area known as Hayes, made memorable because until 2012 it housed a minimum security farm prison. I was surprised when I strolled through the Bathurst Street Farmers Market recently. A table full of beautiful red cabbage heads lay before me. When I chatted to the growers, I learned these cabbages were grown on their property which borders the Derwent at Hayes.
Back home, I chopped a salad and prepared to cook a small salmon steak. Organically grown, delicious, clean and fresh.
Where ever we walk some sort of crime is likely to have been committed in past years, centuries, or millennia – that is, if the concept of crime is part of the culture.
In the past week, Tasmanian police have been hopeful for a breakthrough in the search for Lucille Butterworth, a young woman who has been missing for almost half a century, believed murdered. Reports indicate that police ‘have the best lead yet with credible new information leading them to the lonely gravelled roadside area 8.5km from the Granton turn-off on the Lyell Highway’. The location is next to the Derwent River.
Having seen the latest news media photos, I remember walking this section of the road on my jaunt from Granton to New Norfolk. It was the section where no road verge offered protection from the traffic and I needed to walk on the tarmac. No sign of human habitation. Only vehicles with their racing drivers charging along the highway. I had no clairvoyant moments that day – I never felt the presence of anyone interred in the land nearby. But I hope the scientific and systematic exploration of the area between the road and the Derwent River will bring answers to the many questions which the family have lived with for decades.
Lucille disappeared at a time in history preceding the invasion of mobile phones. By all accounts she waited for a public bus in Hobart’s northern suburbs but the bus never arrived so she accepted a ride with someone in a passing car. These days, a person in a similar situation would simply phone a friend or a relative for help.
Should a blog reader have more information about Lucille Butterworth’s disappearance please contact Tasmania Police.