AltaTud' with that good ol' mockin' attiTud'

Set high above Perth's blue River Swan, with views to match the altitude, this would be Western Australia's most expensive mock Tudor.

I'm no estate agent, but reckon the monstrosity would be worth close to $10 million.

What you can see is probably just the camels' quarters. There's also a two-storey mansion behind.

Mock over New York, Mock over Lunndon

Hugh Lunn's sentimental walk down language lane, Lost for Words, recalls how in the decade or so after WWII, cash-strapped Australians were forced to eat:

• Mock crab: cheese, Worcestershire sauce, mustard and tomato sauce mixed into a sandwich paste;
• Mock chicken: minced tripe with herbs in a white sauce, popped into vol-au-vents [Even I, as a child of the 1970s, remember these mock shockers];
• Mock duck: rump or bladebone steak rolled in a mixture of breadcrumbs, then baked [why the hell you wouldn't just throw the steak on the barbie for an altogether more agreeable result is anyone's guess];
• Mock goose: Alternate layers of lamb's fry and potato and onions, baked.

There were, Lunn recalls, even mock meal recipes for the times families could not afford the cheapest of offal:

• Mock brains: rissoles made from leftover porridge, beaten egg and onion;
• Mock tripe: onions and butter boiled in milk and thickened with flour [I'm sure this mock version would taste and smell better than the original].

Mock desserts, writes Lunn, included:

• Mock maple syrup: honey, golden syrup, cinnamon, lemon essence [doesn't sound tooooo bad];
• Mock cream: milk, cornflour, butter, sugar;
• Mock ginger: vegetable marrow, sugar, ginger powder, lemons;
• Mock rasbperry jam: tomatoes, sugar, raspberry essence, lemon juice, orrisroot powder (from the root of an iris) and cochineal;
• Mock pears: sweetened, boiled choko [yuck!].

Unlike with mock Tudor, at least there was an economic imperative to the mock tucker. And if worse came to worst, you could always throw it up.

AsTud' investment

From Australia's sentimental home of mock Tudor, Dalkeith, comes today's eyesore.

The owners are obviously on holiday, as the branch and leaves of a eucalypt tree has been allowed to violate the front of their otherwise exotically-inspired villa.

From its lofty position, along the Birdwood Parade escarpment, this mocker has a delightful view of the blue River Swan. The view back from the Swan, unfortunately, is not so enticing.

Mocksford Street

Now, I don't know what you'd call the front of this joint, on Oxford Street, Leederville.

But it's a good bet brick magnate Len Buckeridge had something to do with it.

Check the Tudor windows (right, top). They look straight at a nice brick wall of a newsagents' next door.