There’s a rock by the side of the King’s Highway not far outside Braidwood which is often adorned with birthday wishes, painted in bright colours with the name and age of the lucky person. The date when this tradition started is lost to history, but it’s always a point of interest to see the latest inscription for Jason, 16, or Kylie, 21 in a graffiti-on-a-rock kind of way when approaching our destination from the Canberra side.

Local Facebook pages have hosted some debate about the rock’s history which haven’t pinpointed a precise origin tale, but some funny stories have emerged. As with many of these online interactions, you see a new aspect of the community in the memories people recall — it’s a little window into families’ lives over the years you wouldn’t get any other way.

Canberra tour guide and columnist Tim the Yowie Man was the catalyst for this dialogue, with contributors suggesting 1970 as perhaps the earliest manifestation of a message on the rock – some recall the first was the simple monosyllable ‘Hi’. I do rather like some of the others posted to the thread – ‘Mick you old fart’ is particularly heartwarming.

But somehow this charming ritual didn’t seem quite right for the occupants of Corner Cottage this weekend. Yes, it’s the first birthday – guess whose? – we’ve celebrated since arriving and it’s prompted a lot of excitement.

Daniela has deliberated and schemed over the menu, returning from the shops with large hunks of lamb, bulging bags of veg, and mysterious bottles of oils and sprigs of herbs. Yours truly made two trips to the Braidwood IGA on Friday: once for salad makings and cleaning products, and then a frantic rush just before closing time to buy fenugreek for the lamb marinade – an unsuccessful attempt. Just try to find that after hours on a winter’s night in Braidwood. The IGA’s good but it’s not geared up for the requirements of the Ottolenghi cookbook.

My focus has of course been dominated by present-buying. I’d considered entering into the spirit of our homespun life here and making the gift with my own two hands – a nice wooden shelf for the laundry? An origami menagerie for the mantelpiece? A stunning bouquet of home-grown vegetables?

But, much as it’s the thought that counts and homecrafted gifts are made with love, there’s a time and a place for that kind of thing, which is not here or now. The requirement is to give something a little bit luxurious, which she wouldn’t buy for herself in the normal run of things.

So what do you buy for the woman with the pitch-perfect palate? I opted for the best perfume I could afford, adopting the disguise of the harassed husband with no clue in David Jones (in Canberra) and presuming shamelessly on the good nature of the ladies at the smellies counter. Add a few smaller bits and bobs to soften the blow if the fragrance wasn’t up to scratch and we were done – let the pieces fall where they may.

Part of the celebration involves more friends visiting from Sydney – luckily not from the areas experiencing second-wave COVID. They are staying in the ‘studio’, which means clearing the accumulated debris from my work sessions in there, cleaning, hoovering and mopping to impart the impression that frequent intense activity takes place inside.

When it comes to preparing a feast, it’s the birthday girl who’s in the driving seat and we chaps know our place. Which is not to say we’re not pressed into service while the master is in her creative frenzy: chopping and peeling is within the scope of our limited skills; carting out bags of peel and stems and other extraneous matter; stacking the dishwasher and emptying same when the cycle is done. We are the sorcerer’s apprentices – the magic happens on a plane we can only aspire to.

So here’s the bill of fare:

• Shwerma lamb with paprika, garlic, coriander seeds and fresh coriander, cumin and cardamom, marinated overnight and slow-cooked at a low temp for some hours
• Potatoes Dauphinoise, expertly peeled in advance
• A fragrant salad of sweet potato, pumpkin, chickpeas, crunchy onions, tahini, with loads of garlic and lemon juice
• Heritage carrots roasted with maple syrup and cumin; broccolini with pine nuts; beans and snow peas with shredded orange and hazelnut dressing
• Sticky date pudding with coffee liqueur caramel sauce and ice cream.
• Champagne, beer, rosé, and a little whisky nightcap.

With such a feast in the offing, it’s right and proper that all the cleaning and preparation created a healthy appetite. You have to do justice to this level of gustatory plenty – not to mention slaking the thirst that comes from honest labour about the house.

Taking advantage of the brief calm before the storm, I stepped out as night fell to dispose of some more rubbish and stood for a while in the gloaming with the near-full moon high in the pearlescent sky. The cottage was glowing with warmth and light and while all outside was serene, delicious things were being conjured in the kitchen with a focus and passion that seemed to radiate from the windows.

It’s not quite a painted rock, but we managed to celebrate in style anyway. Happy birthday Daniela – and many more to come!