I’d be surprisingly good for you


First lovingly assemble your ingredients on a wooden board

I’ve had the weekend to myself, as Tim has been away in the South Island touring with his choir. I haven’t taken advantage of this absense to cook anything particularly idiosyncratic for myself (ie, mushroom-heavy). It’s all too easy these days to be tempted by grabbing cheap take-out from the squillion eateries dotting the landscape and twinkling in my peripheral vision. I tell myself it’s all in the name of keeping the economy alive. For lunch on Saturday I simmered some elderly tofu in half a jar of spaghetti sauce that had also seen better days as some way of counteracting the excessive time spent not in the kitchen.

Yesterday morning I bussed out to Brooklyn, one of the ‘burbs that huddle round the central city of Wellington, to see Every Little Step at the Penthouse Cinema. Every Little Step weaves two stories together – the inception of ground-breaking musical A Chorus Line in 1974, and the audition process for the revival of the same musical in 2006. A documentary about people auditioning for a musical about people auditioning for a musical. It was fascinating to see some more established Broadway names (oh hi, Amy Spanger, Yuka Takara, Charlotte D’Amboise, etc) learning choreography, waiting for phone calls, pacing back and forward, being told to repeat songs…The dancing was eye-popping and I was actually tearful in one audition scene where this beautiful young guy just nailed a ‘difficult’ monologue to the wall with his intensity. If you get a chance to see this, please do – I don’t think you need to be versed in musical theatre or dance to get a (ha!) kick out of it.

Seeing it really, really made me want to dance again. As I mentioned on Twitter, I was once told by some grand dame in a pashmina at a ballet workshop, that all passion and no talent can only get you so far – and all talent and no passion will get you even less. Unfortch I always erred on the side of “all passion”. That said, after ballet productions and recitals I would often get told by complete strangers that they loved watching me dance, perhaps because I looked so utterly happy to be twirling round on stage or something. It’s unlikely that there is an audience out there for an enthusiastic, past-a-prime-she-never-really-had dancer but I’ll keep my ear to the ground (which I can do surprisingly deftly, having maintained my dancer’s flexibility if nothing else).

With Tim’s impending return and the cake tin empty I thought a lazy Sunday afternoon would be as good a time as any to do some baking. Not that I’m some kind of 1950s housewifely type. No ma’am. To pluck an example from the air, I still can’t work a washing machine (just this evening my red sheets dyed yet another white tshirt pink) and Tim does 99% of the cleaning and dishes. But I’ll be damned if he ever has to cook himself a meal in his life. I guess it kind of balances out into something healthy-ish.

Speaking of healthy-ish, what I ended up making was a recipe that caught my eye from this Australian Women’s Weekly chocolate cookbook that I’ve had for a year or two now. I’ve been pretty good lately at not eating half the cake mix as I go but for this I really couldn’t stop myself. Cast your eyes over the ingredient list and nod in agreement with me. It’s marvelous stuff. It’s full of oats which I’m not even going to try and brightly joke makes it good for you, but it certainly can’t hurt. And chocolate is healthy in that spiritual way, so.

Chocolate Oat Slice

Adapted from Sweet and Simple: Chocolate, an Australian Women’s Weekly book.

90g butter
2 tablespoons golden syrup or condensed milk
100g milk chocolate
2 tablespoons good cocoa
2 cups rolled oats, lightly toasted
1/2 cup pistachios, toasted and chopped (I used walnuts)
1/2 cup dessicated coconut

Resist where I couldn’t, my children!

In a good sized, heavy based pan, melt together the butter, chocolate and golden syrup/condensed milk. Resist the urge to grab a spatula and chaperone it directly into your mouth. Stir in the cocoa, oats, nuts and coconut. Spread this mixture into a lined 20cm springform tin and refrigerate. It should set fairly quickly, and once it has, ice with chocolate buttercream if you want (and I did, as the song goes) and slice into triangles or whatever takes your fancy.

Might sound a bit strange, all those uncooked rolled oats just sitting there. But the oats soften up with all that butter and chocolate, and provide a fantastic chewy bite that makes it difficult to stop at one ‘test’ piece. The oats also soften up the sweetness somewhat. It’s not overwhelming, but this slice would be really good with a cup of thick black tea or strong black coffee to temper all the sugar. The Australian Women’s Weekly is renowned for triple-testing all their recipes, I can only imagine the sublime happiness emanating from the test kitchen during the writing of this particular book.

Did you know I’ve been asked three times in the last week if I’m still in high school? For fear of making myself sound even younger I’ll try not to rant about it too much, but really. I’m 23. I have a degree. I have a job where I make important decisions for the greater good of the nation. I’ve traveled. I’m legitimately grown-up. (Except I can’t drive or operate a washing machine.) Yes, I am generally more ‘clunky pun-dropper’ than ‘intimidating sophisticate’ but the idea that I carry myself like a high school student, that I don’t exude worldly-traveledy-employedyness…is not so fun. But enough personality dialysis! Let us focus on the positive: living in New Zealand under a gaping ozone hole has not left me a withered crone older than my years. Also, in a few years I’ll no doubt look back on myself with and dismissively think “Oh, 23 year olds. So annoying,” as I overheard someone on the bus once saying. I thought 23 was a pretty decent age to achieve, but the lesson is there’s always someone older than you who will greet your every action with disdain. Unless you’re 90, in which case you can drink whisky and eat cake and talk disdainfully about anyone you like.


On Shuffle whilst I type: (the other day, Tim said “I’m sure you just put whatever song you feel like talking about on here, not actually what’s on Shuffle. To which I sigh and say, “Oh 23 year olds. So annoying.”)

You Got The Love by Chaka Khan and Rufus, from Rags To Rufus. Chaka Khan. It’s always the right time.

Connection by Elastica from their eponymous album. This song is…very cool.

Something 4 the Weekend by Super Furry Animals from their album Fuzzy Logic. It’s a great song, I like that they’re connected to the Welsh language so strongly and their name always makes me think of bunnies and kittens and such. What a package.


Title brought to you by: I’d Be Surprisingly Good For You from Evita, by the exquisite Patti LuPone. If you’ve got the time, you must check out this promotional TV ad for Evita. The voiceover! The fervour! The sass! Patti’s eyes at the end!

Next time: Signs of Spring are popping up everywhere but I’m still yet to see asparagus at a satisfactory price. When I do you can be sure this blog will be overflowing with the stuff.

9 thoughts on “I’d be surprisingly good for you

  1. Kay says:

    That chocolate cake looks surprisingly easy and I could even be tempted to have a go at it myself – specially now that I've got two weeks' break to achieve a few domestic goals.

    Twenty-three? I have items on my “To Do List” which are older than that!

    Hope Tim had a good time away with his choir.

    Saw Manners Mall and bottom of Cuba Street on TV tonight – re the decision to open up the mall to buses. Nice to be able to recognise places in Welly now.

    Hope you are able to find somewhere suitable to express your dancing urges.


  2. HayleyB says:

    Your blog is always so good to read. I've been away too long (my own blog is being sorely neglected but hopefully I'll have a new post this week!).

    Oh gosh, that chocolate and oat slice looks heavenly!! I think I'll make it the next time I'm asked to bring some sort of “dessert” to some gathering or other! I have always found Australian Womens' weekly recipes to be easy to follow, that they never fail, and almost always quite tasty.

    I get that age thing too. People always think I'm younger than I am. The other day someone found out I was married (someone I've worked with for the last 4 years), and she said “what are you, twelve?” ha. ha. No, actually I'm twice that age, and more. Oh well, it's a blessing to look younger than your age I guess!


  3. Olivia says:

    Oh you're so OLDDDDDD. You old fart. haha. Kidding, kidding. *bounce* I'm just a primary schooler compared to you.

    That cake looks AMAZING, and I'm trying to find a date to go to Every Little Step at that theatre in Brooklyn, my friend was talking about it yesterday… it has a cafe! Might go with her actually, she likes A chorus line…


  4. Foodycat says:

    I last got asked for ID on my 28th birthday. The older I get the more I cling to that fact.

    AWW are so good! I can't remember why I ever bake from lesser cookbooks, my results are never so good.


  5. Kay says:

    Hey, Julian and I have just made (and polished off our first piece) of the AWW choc slice. Was verrrry nice. I can definitely taste the roasted nuts and oats – gives it a nice toasted flavour. I used walnuts too, and the left over chocolate from the 100g to make the icing.


  6. Laura @ Hungry and Frozen says:

    Mum: YAY you made it, it's yum right? So far the nice polished wooden floor in the kitchen is good for pirouetting in my socks πŸ˜€

    Hayley: Thanks πŸ™‚ AWW recipes are always pretty reliable. And definitely there are benefits in looking young!

    Olivia: HA true. Also you should definitely go see Every Little Step, it's so beautiful. Penthouse Cinema is really cute.

    George: You should have a go, it's a very easy recipe.

    Foodycat: Good on you πŸ™‚ And yeah, can't go wrong with AWW!


  7. Adam says:

    Tim does that much cleaning? Wow, great for you. I personally hate doing laundry, even though all it takes is a drop and press the button thing πŸ™‚

    If it makes you feel any better, I think high school girls can't cook like you do. Your tastes of beets, chocolate, and butter is waaaay too sophisticated for them πŸ™‚


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