Page 85 of Sisters Under The Rising Sun

Norah tries to read the label on the tin. ‘Do any of you know what this is?’ she asks the others when she returns to her hut.

The women all look at the label but shake their heads,no.

‘I’ll take it to Mother Laurentia, I think it’s in Dutch. We really should know whether it’s edible or should be put in a truck.’

Norah hurries across to the nuns’ hut.

‘Yes!’ Mother Laurentia exclaims. ‘It is Dutch, and it says, “Red Palm Oil”. Perfect for cooking – if only we had something to cook.’

‘We also got some rice,’ Norah tells her. ‘I daresay we could make fried rice.’

‘Yes, and we could also add some roots or any greenery you can find, but …’ The nun sighs.

‘But what?’

‘You might want to think about saving some of the oil for the hospital. The locals in Malaya used to apply it to infected cuts and injuries. It has proven medicinal qualities.’

‘Like honey.’

The nun smiles. ‘Yes, like honey.’

‘Thank you, Mother Laurentia, I’ll let the others know, as I’m sure they will want to share it with the hospital. We’ll get some of the rice and oil to you as soon as we have portioned it out.’

Inspired by the oil, the women begin to cook very basic meals with the rice, all the while describing what they would do with it ‘back home’.

‘You know what, Norah?’ Ena is reading an old issue of theCamp Chronicle.

‘No, I can’t begin to imagine,’ her sister replies.

‘I think we should relaunch the recipe sessions from theChronicle, where women jot down their favourite memories of preparing meals.’

‘Won’t that just make us hungrier?’ Norah is staring into the empty pot on the stove, their rice rations consumed for the day.

‘Maybe, but it was so good too. Ham and eggs, dinners out in posh restaurants,pudding. It will take our minds off having nothing, don’t you think?’

‘Well, it would certainly take our minds off the camp,’ Norah quips.

‘My only problem is we have nothing to write these recipes on so we can share them,’ Ena laments.

‘Mmm, here’s a thought. I was visiting Margaret last week and one of the women in her hut waved around a chequebook she found in her suitcase, joking she could write cheques to buy us all food. She even laughed about how she and her husband had enough money in their bank in Singapore to buy the camp and wondered what the sergeant would take for it.’

‘I would have loved to have heard that conversation. But what does that have to do with recording recipes?’

‘I think we all agreed the cheques were useless, but the backs of them are blank; they might be just the right size to write down a recipe. What do you think?’

‘I love it, it sounds perfect!’

With the chequebook graciously donated in exchange for providing the first recipe, Ena, Audrey and Norah decide a cookbook would be the best way to share the delicious food memories. They speak to everyone in the camp, asking for inspirational national dishes.

The nurses’ hut is the last on their list, and one evening, the three women knock at the door. Jean lets them in and those nurses not in the hospital or visiting a sick patient at home listen intently.

‘So, you want us to come up with one recipe that represents us? A unique Australian dish?’ Betty says.

‘Yes, anything you like,’ Ena replies.

‘Well, there’s only one dish, isn’t there, ladies? As Australian as we all are,’ Vivian says.

‘Don’t you dare say pavlova,’ Audrey protests, catching the eye of as many of the nurses as she can.