Category: Fruit

Pineapple Express

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A very, very swift post from me – I know my exam is tomorrow, but Tim and I have studied ourselves into a brick wall and can nay do more. We’ve been watching some audio commentaries on The Mighty Boosh DVD (yes, we are earnest commentary-watching folk) and giving our brains a well-needed airing before everything we’ve crammed in there floats lightly out our ears.

Saturday’s weather was beyond awful – gale force winds and pelting rain. Sunday, however, in typical Wellington fashion, was the complete opposite – an unutterably beautiful day. I purchased a pineapple at the vege market for a dollar and imagined I would sprinkle it with chopped mint and fresh ginger and serve it for a sparklingly healthy dinner. Then Tim said “or we could dip it in chocolate?” Brilliant. I was sold.

In fact I went one better, and used a recipe of the blessed Nigella Lawson’s from her gorgeous book Forever Summer .

Caramelised Pineapple with Hot Chocolate Sauce
1 ripe pineapple
demarara sugar (Nigella specifies 250g)
200g dark chocolate
125ml Malibu
125ml cream

Preheat the grill to very hot (or the barbeque!) Slice the skin off the pineapple then chop it into wedges. If you like, thread them onto soaked wooden bamboo skewers or just leave them plain like I did. Lay the pineapple on a layer of tinfoil and sprinkle with the sugar. Pop under the grill till caramelised and deep golden in colour. For the sauce, simply melt the chocolate and stir in the Malibu and cream. Pour into a bowl for people to dip the pineapple in. I resolutely sprinkled the pineapple with mint though and it added its pleasant, reliably perky flavour to the whole thing.

You should probably know that we lowly (soon-to-be-ex) students don’t carry anything as highfalutin’ as actual Malibu. Instead I used a harsh splash of this Malibu doppelganger stuff of Katie’s called – charmingly – “Wipeout.” The look of Malibu in the same white bottle, minus the smooth rumminess.

Above: Cool mirror effect on the shiny dipping sauce. It’s probably the aluminium in the Wipeout liquor that makes the chocolate so reflecty.

We ate dinner (a quick feast of steamed red potatoes, proper beef sausages, roasted capsicum and carrot sticks) outside because it was so glorious, and at 7.30pm we were still able to be comfortably al fresco with our pineapple. It is a wonderful pudding – the taste of scorched fructose and smooth, smooth chocolate mingling very pleasantly with each other, people leaning over each other sociably to access the fruit and sauce – heck, I’d go for two pineapples next time.

I haven’t mentioned this so far because I’ve been so busy promoting the Otaua video (and in case you’re wondering, the case is going on hiatus for three weeks so no proper conclusion yet) but if you like, clickety click HERE to witness a rather amazing thing. You may remember that I went on a plugging spree for the late Broadway musical [title of show]. Well it’s over now, but some spry fans organised – and just let me try to explain this properly – a music video to ‘9 Peoples’ Favourite Things’, one of the songs from [title of show], using fans of the show holding up pictures of the lyrics. As in, one word per person. If all this makes no sense, watch the video anyway because Tim and I are both in it! Yayyy! Participation from miles afar! But actually, don’t even try to look out for us because we zoom by in a flash and your retinae will chaff with the strain of it all. But there’s still something for everyone. For Broadway fans, there’s Jonathan Groff *swoons*, Patti LuPone, Shoshana Bean, Amy Spanger, Seth Rudetsky, Betty Buckley and Cheyenne Jackson *swoons again* amongst others. For the average punter, have fun trying to spot America Ferrera, Sarah Silverman, Jimmy Kimmel, TR Knight from Grey’s Anatomy and for those who like to dip your toe on either side of the fence, check out the spunky Bebe “Lillith” Neuwirth. Follow the link in the grey box for stills and names, and you’ll actually get to see me.

See, there was no need to flinch, I didn’t even try and make you watch the Otaua video again. But if you’re on youtube anyway with nothing else to do…As it is we are on a rollicking 1900 views, which is flipping amazing. Hopefully in three weeks we can make the change we want. In fantastic news, Otaua and the video itself were on the TV1 national news show here in New Zealand, they gave us a good two minutes and showed lots of clips of Otaua looking clean and lovely and untainted by oil plants. Hilariously though, they showed a clip of the mayor of Franklin, Mark Ball, and said that it was my dad. Not sure what the mayor thinks of this…

Speaking of change, in a day or two I’m guessing things are going to go absolutely nuts in America. Even a bare plot summary of my beloved RENT which this blog is named for should indicate that I’m pretty left leaning. (Hint: lesbians ahoy!) I couldn’t be more hopeful that Barack Obama gets in as president, and that Sarah Palin fades quietly into obscurity (I know, I know, I’m not American, but let’s put it this way, I’ve heard many, many women say that she in no way speaks for them by virtue of her gender). It’s times like these that I get a particular song stuck in my head…’Louder Than Words’,a stunning ditty from one of Jonathan Larson’s earlier works, Tick, Tick…Boom! If the words look a little cheesy on paper, click here for a somewhat poor quality vid of the final Broadway cast singing it to get the full effect.
Why should we
Blaze a trail
When the well worn path
Seems safe and so inviting?

How, as we travel
Can we see the dismay
And keep from fighting?

Cages or wings
Which do you prefer? Ask the birds
Fear or love, baby
Don’t say the answer
Actions speak louder than words!

What does it take
To wake up a generation?
How can you make someone
Take off and fly?

If we don’t wake up
And shake up the nation
We’ll leave the dust
Of the world wondering why

Why do we stay with lovers
Who we know, down deep
Just aren’t right?
Why would we rather
Put ourselves through hell
Than sleep alone at night?

Why do we follow leaders who never lead?
Why does it take catastrophe to start a revolution
If we’re so free? Tell me why – someone tell me why
So many people bleed

Cages or wings
Which do you prefer? Ask the birds
Fear or love, baby
Don’t say the answer
Actions speak louder than words!

Gelatine-age Kicks

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What a kerfuffle. I apologise heartily for neglecting the blogs I normally peruse loyally. If it’s any consolation, between studying for my exam next Tuesday, stressing about WPC Ltd’s attempt to bring their ‘environmentally friendly’ waste oil treatment plant to my hometown, vigorously promoting the protest video on youtube, and working, I’ve barely managed to attend to this blog. What can I say, it’s rather difficult to type when you’re shaking your fist at people. It makes me so furious that the WPC and members of the Franklin District Council that support them can go to bed at night, placidly untroubled about what they’re doing to an entire community, while I find myself reading the same page of Kerouac’s On The Road seven times because I’m so distracted with worry (perhaps also due to this book not being nearly as good as everyone claims it to be, perhaps not.) The hearing to decide the fate of Otaua is happening today and tomorrow, so you understand that I’m a little jittery. I’d like to say now that it was four years to the day on the 29th that my maternal grandfather died. He spent most of his final years living just up the road from us, and I imagine him watching over the proceedings, perhaps also with a fist held angrily aloft.

To the food: There is something about recipes involving gelatine that fills me with trepidation, I think it stems back to an incident involving Neenish Tarts when I was a child. The recipe called for the filling to be set with the dreaded stuff, which formed stringy, gummy strands the moment it hit the mixture. As people politely bit into the finished tarts, their teeth would meet with clumps of it, the texture of chopped up erasers marring the otherwise smooth and creamy filling. My gelatine experiences since then have been few and far between. Earlier this year though I spontaneously purchased some gelatine leaves from Kirkcaldie and Staines and decided to use them the other day to make Apple Tea Jelly, a recipe from the September 2005 Cuisine magazine that has held my attention ever since I read it. The weather is finally warming the shoulders enough to make this sort of thing even worth thinking about.

Above: Gelatine leaves. Nigella Lawson raves about them, which is enough to get me to hand over significant amounts of coin for something. But don’t they look like some kind of ethereally golden church window? Hold them towards the sun and the Hallelujah chorus practically starts playing. Of course, those with a delicate constition may want to ignore the sole ingredient in these fairy-like sheets: pig skin. Moving along!

Powdered Turkish apple tea can be found in most supermarkets, but I happened to acquire a half-full box from my aunt after a comprehensive cleanout of her well-stocked pantry (which, up until said cleanout, was always something of a mystical haven for me, my version of Narnia). I never knew what to do with the stuff – it’s too sugary to actually drink (I prefer a stiff black tea or something a bit more minty and natural, thankyou), and although the powder is intensely delicious eaten by the spoonful – like the best sour apple sweets you’ve ever tasted, dissolving ascerbically on the tongue – the idea of eating the whole lot makes me wince. So when I found this recipe, which uses a good amount of the stuff, I verily leapt with joy.

Above: The apple tea powder. Seriously, if you have some kicking around, try eating it with a spoon. It’s intensely yummy, especially if you have what Nigella refers to as a sour tooth, rather than a sweet one. I have what I call a “fat tooth.”

The recipe is very simple and specifies six 100ml dariole moulds, but since I was only feeding Tim and myself, I poured the whole lot into a little 600ml, old-fashioned Tala tin – also from that same aunt come to think of it. (Cheers, Lynn!)

Apple Tea Jelly

600mls boiling water
6 leaves gelatine
6 Tablespoons powdered apple tea

I funked it up a little by adding an apple-friendly chamomile teabag to the boiling water for a spell, and strewing some finely-chopped mint through the mixture once it was nearly set. But first: dissolve the apple tea in the boiling water. While that’s happening, soak the gelatine leaves in a large lasagne-style dish filled with cold water for about a minute. They will soften slightly, and then, one at a time, pick them out of the water, squeeze them – which is rather squelchily pleasurable – and stir into the boiling apple tea, whereupon they will dissolve instantly. Pour the gelatined apple tea into your chosen receptacle, and then refrigerate for 8 hours or overnight.

Above: The unminted jelly, ready for refrigeration.

When you’re ready to eat it, find a likely looking person (in my case, Tim) to dip the tin briefly in hot water and turn it out onto a plate. I refuse to do such things myself, I know it will only result in tears – not necessarily mine – and jelly in my ears.

And what a beauty it is! Shivery, diaphanous, and with a subtle, fragrant apple flavour that is a million miles from whatever lurid, food-colouring flavoured stuff you can get out of a packet. I love packet jelly, but this is just absolutely gorgeous stuff, alluringly wobbly and very impressive to the casual passer-by (“you made jelly? Not out of a packet? Ooooh.“) I imagine it would be wonderful on a hot summer night, after some kind of spice-heavy dinner.

Like I said, I have been attempting to study for my English exam next Tuesday. In fairness to WPC Ltd, there has been one other thing distracting me from my books: The Mighty Boosh. I’ve been a fan for a while now but Tim and I got ourselves a DVD of Season Two and watched all six episodes in one sitting. I laughed so much I nearly pulled a muscle. It’s sheer brilliance, a little like Flight of The Conchords only British and surreal and even funnier (I realise I seem to compare everything to FOTC but that’s because people are generally afraid to try new things unless they can relate it to something they already know. Gelatine – it’s like Flight of the Conchords, only it dissolves in hot water!) More loveable than Little Britain, more endearing than Mr Bean, more surreal than Green Wing, and almost as sharp as Blackadder. Actually I’d put it on a par with Black Books. Hath there existed greater praise for comedy?

The other exciting thing going on – okay, so you already know about Neil Young coming to town, but guess who else is going to be here in January. You’ll never guess. Okay: Leonard Cohen. The gravel-and-maple-syrup voiced lothario himself. Since Tim and I were lucky enough to witness Rufus Wainwright earlier this year, that will be my entire Canadian Music Tripartite that I’ve managed to see in concert and I’m only 22! I honestly never thought I’d get to see Mr Cohen, at least not in New Zealand of all places. I couldn’t be more excited than if Idina Menzel herself decided “what the heck” and booked a tour of New Zealand even though you can’t actually buy her albums in shops here (are you listening, Warner Brothers Records?) Although there have been whispers over the ether that Morrissey himself *faints* might be paying a trip to New Zealand in January. As you can imagine, what with one thing and another, I’ve been having a lot of mood swings lately. Thanks awfully for sticking it out with me.

Finally, further proof that the cat is secretly on quaaludes:

Above: “I’m under your bed, befriending your dust bunnies…” He just sat there, with enough of him sticking out so we could see him. A desperate cry for attention (as if he doesn’t rule our lives already) or something more sinister?

Wait, what’s that you say, Oscar?

If the above makes no sense, visit I Can Has Cheezburger? for further info (it still may not make sense, but you should get a laugh out of it.)

Next time: Not sure, though I’ll try to keep it coherent. I did buy myself (with the aid of a voucher) the Wagamama Noodle cookbook which I’ve been getting lots of use out of, so mayhaps something from that. The video on youtube has hit a mighty 1800 views, words can’t express my gratitude to those of you who have been watching it. For further information, keep checking the Otaua Village Blog for updates.

Corn As High As An Elephant’s Eye

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I hope this isn’t going to be the blog post equivalent of that friend you have who sees you occasionally in the street, smiles brightly, and as they zoom off into the distance they cry breathlessly “We really should catch up for coffee sometime!” And then you don’t hear from them for three months.


I apologise for being woefully slow at updating. Sure, I have been busy, but I haven’t managed to convince Tim of my theory that since turning 22, approximately 25 minutes out of every hour just vanishes. Even now, I should be doing useful things, like washing my hair and packing for my business trip (the airport shuttle arrives at 8.00am tomorrow), re-editing my essay and maybe getting to sleep an hour ago.

A sign of my commitment: The promised peanut butter popcorn.

So, I attempted the notorious recipe on Hot Garlic’s site.

I’ll be frank, cold even: I’m not one of those sorts for whom a peanut butter sandwich is a good time. The idea of schmeering it on popcorn was faintly troubling. But, won over by enthusiastic testimonials, I gave it a go.
It was so good that after Tim and I wolfed it down like famished hyenas, I promptly made another batch. Oh sure, popcorn is good, but smothered in peanut butter and chocolate? (and you know I augmented the amount of butter that the recipe recommends) This stuff is remarkably delicious, and a testament to that old saying “the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.”

Speaking of corn and the magical forms it can take…I have a new favourite gluten-free cake. Much as I love chocolate I find those super-rich flourless cakes can be cloying, throat clogging and frankly a little samey (although yes, delicious.) I don’t mean to sound condescending and bandwagon-jumping to the genuinely intolerant, once you make this cake all fist-shaking thoughts will fly airily from your wheat-shunning minds.

I found the recipe in the New World supermarket magazine…a mag that I’m not a huge fan of but which regularly redeems itself with such finds as this.

Lemon Poppy Seed Cornmeal Cake

Disclaimer: the cat is faceplanted on my left leg and I don’t have the heart to shove him off and find the recipe so I’m transcribing it from memory. I’ll change any erroneous details asap.

250g soft butter
1 cup caster sugar
3 eggs, separated
Juice and zest of 2 lemons
1 cup cornmeal (aka polenta…not instant though!)
1/2 t baking powder
150g ground almonds (there’s no escaping them)
2 T poppyseeds (my contribution to the recipe)

Cream the butter and sugar together, add the egg yolks and lemon juice/zest. In another, non-plastic bowl, whip the egg whites till stiff. I know it’s a pain when recipes ask for separated eggs, but persevere. And don’t kick it old-school like I did and manually whisk the whites. It hurts. Add the cornmeal, baking powder, almonds and poppyseeds to the butter/yolk mix and then gently but robustly fold in the whites. Bake in a 22cm, greased and lined tin for an hour – about – at 175 C. When it comes out of the oven, squeeze over more lemon juice, mixed with a little icing sugar, which will settle deliciously into the cake.

Mine got a little (okay, very) dark in the oven, so keep an eye on it and cover with tinfoil if you’re worried. This cake is intensely good – soft, moist, tangy, lemony, ohhhh I’m drooling quite immodestly right now just thinking about it.

And within, a gorgeous, rich, distilled-sunshine colour. I don’t know how long it lasts because we ate it stupidly fast, but I daresay it has a few days in it.

A million thanks to those who watched and commented on dad’s protest video in my last post. And if you haven’t watched it, may I not-so-subtly direct your attention towards it with my many links? Truly though, it means so much! We’ve amassed over 700 views on youtube already, which is pretty amazing since, well, Otaua village is pretty tiny and we only have so many friends and friends-of-friends to sing its praises to. So, to those of you who actually did watch it, a heartfelt thanks. And watch it again! It’ll be grand!

Speaking of youtube I have been monumentally distracted lately by the thoroughly engaging and HILARIOUS new musical called [title of show], about two guys writing a musical about two guys writing a musical about two guys writing a musical…if you like Flight of the Conchords AND Broadway (the latter is kind of necessary, lots of it goes over my head I’m sure and I consider myself fairly well-versed) then you’ll love it. But here’s a clip giving you a little more info anyway…It’s going to close soon so if any of my readers are ridiculously fortunate enough to be living in New York, go see it!
Finally – what is that substance on our mossy, damp patio? Could it be…sunshine? Okay, so it rained all day today, but this patch o’ concrete literally hasn’t seen the sun since about February.
And I know I’m wearing odd socks, I’d like to think it represents my free-spirited, left-brained, artistic temperament but some would say it merely represents my inability to find matching socks.

Don’t Think Ice, It’s Alright

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I understand the prevailing trend these days is to profess adoration for dark chocolate, the higher in cocoa mass and the more intensely bitter the better, preferably savoured by candlelight with a perfectly aged red wine. Me, I could take it or leave it. I love it for cooking – rarely use anything else – but in terms of eating, I am the fiendiest fiend for white chocolate. I know, it’s not even “real” chocolate, and it’s nothing but sugar, and doesn’t even have any cocoa mass by which to measure its superiority against other chocolates…but I LOVE it. If I know there’s some in the house I can barely concentrate, and find myself blindly standing by the cupboard, stolidly chewing away at whatever’s left of my white chocolate resources. Whereas dark chocolate – well, it’s pretty telling that I have four blocks of the stuff sitting in my wardrobe (because (a) I stock up if it’s on sale and (b) we don’t have a lot of cupboard space in the kitchen), and haven’t touched the stuff.

But I’m only human. I see chocolate, unwrapped and vulnerable in front of me and I gotta take a bite. This particular stuff – Donovan’s 80% cocoa dark chocolate, has its own cromulent gratification, in spite of not being my first choice. Smooth, sharp, with an uncannily refreshing, rather than rich finish, it was the perfect thing to embiggen my otherwise low-rent sorbet…

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I got the idea for this from a Jill Dupleix recipe for “ice cream” made of only two ingredients – bananas and raspberries. Berries being expensive, I thought I could make another version using canned pears. I poshed it up by adding some shards of the aforementioned dark chocolate and changing the name…

Banana, Pear, and Bitter Dark Chocolate Sorbet (see, doesn’t sound like something out of a can at all when you put it like that)

3 very ripe, large bananas
1 large or 2 regular sized cans of pears, well drained
45g dark chocolate, chopped roughly

Ideally you should do this in a food processor. But I was feeling lazy…or ecologically minded if you will…and used a fork. Mash the bananas and pears together till they are uniformly smooth. Fold in the chocolate. Freeze, stirring occasionally. This makes about 750mls…I think. If you want more, all you have to do is add more bananas or another can of pears. It could probably do with a blast in the food processor after a certain amount of freezing, but once again, I was being serenely carbon neutral with my fork. I’m sure it would be far superior made in the food processor, but it really depends on whether you want to serve it to people or just eat it by yourself.

It’s so healthy you could practically have it for breakfast. Even with the chocolate because you know, antioxidants! If you want to serve it to polite company though you need to leave it on the bench for a while to soften. Because it has no added fat it freezes rock solid and you will get fissures in your teeth trying to eat it. I think I got elbow fissures trying to scrape up a spoonful for this photo. But when I left it out of the fridge (for ages actually, I’d forgotten about it but our kitchen is so arctic that it hadn’t melted in the slightest) to soften, I was pleasantly greeted by a delicious flavour combination. The delicate flavour of the pears, the texture of the bananas, the occasional surprise of dark chocolate made for an excellent mouthful. Better yet it cost me diddly squat to make. Supermarkets will sell overripe bananas for a song, canned pears are always cheap, and okay, chocolate is expensive but if you can get it on special it’s not too bad. Which is why, when Tim and I trekked to Pak’n’Save to do our groceries and I saw 250g blocks of chocolate for $2 compared to the usual $6, I stocked up.
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When I was up home last weekend, my mother – ever the teacher – gently brought my attention to some misplaced apostrophes in my blog. As I want to be a sub-editor one day…and consider myself pretty au fait with grammatical concepts…I apologise sincerely. By the time I’ve written and edited these posts and grappled with the screen freezing up and photos uploading I tend to miss a few things. I’ll think twice next time I sneer at someone else’s poor punctuation. And indeed, feel free to tell me if there is an apostrophe out of place somewhere causing you offense.
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Next time: I attempt to make Peanut Butter and Chocolate Popcorn from the Hot Garlic blog. With not a little trepidation I must admit, as I wasn’t born with American tastebuds but the way everyone raved over it…and I do love my popcorn maker…well, my curiosity was piqued.
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Your daily kitty cuteness update:
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He’s still doing it.

These Things Take Time

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(Yes, that is The Smiths I’m quoting in the title. ) Finally! A new post. It has been a long time coming. Uni is keeping me good and stressed, and I have a presentation and a 2500 word essay to pull out of the air this week…

Above: Bla, bla, chocolate shmocolate. Yes, I made another chocolate cake, this time the Chocolate Meringue Truffle Cake from Nigella’s marvelous Feast for Emma’s 22nd birthday; the cake was amazing, the photos weren’t, but I rather liked this swirly shot.

I’m sick of seeing sweet things on this blog, and I’m sure you must be too, but bear with me – I’d hate to lose a reader for want of a sausage. (heh!) Because I’m temporarily relying on our old digital camera which is really…not very good (I know, artist – tools – do not blame) and our actual camera is still unavoidably detained, the only way I can take blog-worthy photos is if there is natural light. Considering our flat gets about 14 minutes of natural light per day in winter, and that it has been raining non-stop for the last month or two…well. It doesn’t make for snap-happiness. Plus, it’s always dark by the time I start cooking dinner. During the day is when I bake. So that’s what you get to see. It’s a pity, because if I say so myself, I’ve been making some pretty nifty dinners lately – pumpkin and black bean curry, corn chowder, bobotie, raw salad with hot and sour dressing and sesame noodles, mushroom risotto…but for you: more sweet things.

There were some blackened, rock-hard bananas that had been in the freezer forever. Because our freezer space is limited at best, and because they were just sitting there balefully, annoying me, I decided to turn said bananas into some muffins. Sounds dull, sounds obvious, but once you bite into one – fresh from the oven, with the warm tickle of cinnamon present in your throat and the flavour of honey flooding your tastebuds – it makes me wonder why I don’t encase this fruit in lumps of quickly-stirred batter more often. They’re squishy, they’re sweet, they take five minutes to make, and they freeze well. This particular recipe of Nigella’s is quite apt for the current economic downturn – minimal butter and sugar, no eggs…

Banana Muffins (from Nigella’s equally warm and cinnamon scented How To Be A Domestic Goddess, my love for this book is intense!)

30g melted butter
60mls (1/4 cup) honey (I sometimes use half honey, half golden syrup)
3 large, very ripe bananas
150g flour
1 t baking powder
1/2 t baking soda
Good dash cinnamon

Heat oven to 190 C. Mash the bananas, add the butter, honey and cinnamon. Carefully fold in the dry ingredients. If it looks tooooo dry add a couple of tablespoons of milk. The main point is not to overmix them. Spoon evenly into a 12-bun muffin tin lined with paper cases (or use a nifty silicone one like I did) and bake for 20-25 minutes. Leave in the tin for five minutes before removing. Eat.

Not revolutionary…but delicious.

Because it seemed as though on this particular day we were going to get more than our 14 minutes of natural light, I decided to really go nuts (yes, this is my version of living it up) and make cupcakes. Wait, it gets better – Pina Colada Cupcakes.

Nigella’s cupcake recipe has served me well. In each of her 6 cookbooks (all of which I own – ker-ching!) she includes one or other form of cupcake, and between the simplicity of the recipe itself and the amount of times I’ve reproduced it I hardly ever actually consult the text. Not everyone is as vigilant as I though. This variation on Nigella’s ur-recipe runs thusly – take 125g each of butter and sugar, cream thoroughly, add either a drained can of crushed pineapple in juice or about 200g chopped real pineapple, then two eggs, 125g flour, 2 t baking powder…a teaspoon of Malibu if you like, and a splash of milk if the batter needs it…divide between 12 cupcake cases, bake at 180 for 15 minutes. I iced with a slapdash buttercream (you know, butter, icing sugar, bit of water) to which I added a pinprick of Boyajian orange oil…finally I strewed some coconut over the fragrant cupcakes to complete the Pina Colada effect.

Even though I didn’t soften the butter enough and so it sort of affected the baking process, the finished cakelets tasted fabulous. There’s something about coconut and pineapple, they’re such a classic combination. Which is why I’ve appropriated it here and then tried to take all the credit for something really quite unimaginative…

I realise it’s bordering on churlish to complain about my rapidly diminishing time and then talk about a film that I watched, but I couldn’t spend the whole weekend doing schoolwork. Anyway, Enchanted – you know, that self-reflexive Disney film – has come out on DVD and I rented it from the video hut down the road. I ended up watching it alone because Tim’s a hater, but it was actually really very good. I laughed out loud more than I expected. And it has Idina Menzel in it! She doesn’t even sing, she just acts, which is pretty cool. It’s a small but relatively pivotal role, and they could have gotten, oh I don’t know, Demi Moore or Rachel Griffiths or…I don’t know, even Hillary Swank to play the role, it’s not like they didn’t have the budget for it. Anyway, Idina is very cool in the role, she looks gorgeous and it’s nice that she didn’t get the “bad stepmother” story arc. James Marsden, as the uber-prince Edward, is hilarious. He manages to wring every drop of physical humour out of his role, and I love how he exaggerates the trad Disney prince. Susan Sarandon, for someone so awesome, is surprisingly…meh…Patrick Dempsey does a decent straight man, and Amy Adams is really likeable. I’d seen pictures of her and she didn’t look like she had a lot of spark, but she lights up on screen. Timothy Spall is as nifty as ever.

Speaking of movies, okay, so I often catch the cable car into Lambton Quay for work. On the swipe-card turnstiles there are these signs saying “No Entry for Small Children.” Every time I see those signs, I think to myself, “Gee, I should buy No Country for Old Men for Tim. It’s violent, Oscar winning and Coen-penned – he’ll love it!” And then I think happily about Javier Bardem for a spell. And then I soberly nay-say myself, refusing to be jettisoned into capitalism by a suggestive sign. Don’t fall into their trap, I think with caution. This can go back and forth. And it happens every time I go to work. I’ve tried to catch myself in the act, but those signs get me every time. You know what I’m talking about, right? (*small voice* just me?)

Aint No Sunshine

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Another day, another chocolate cake. Seriously, I’ve eaten more chocolate cake in the last month than I normally do in a year. It has continued to rain steadily in Wellington – indeed, over the whole country – and there was even a sizeable slip not far from where my flat is. But on Saturday morning I felt the oddest sensation. I woke up with the sun streaming through the windows. I didn’t know what to do with myself at the sight of blue sky. I felt like a babushka from Old Rumania, shucking off my winter cloak to prepare for the feasting of Springtide. Well, it wasn’t so much “sunny” as “not raining” but Tim and I took the opportunity to zoom into town to do some jobs and that afternoon, while there was still more blue than grey in the sky, I made a cake.

I had some cream cheese leftover from the cheesecake I made for Tearaway magazine, and although it would have been entirely more economical to use it in some pasta sauce or something, I decided to build a chocolate cake around it. And no, I didn’t use it in the icing, which is more conventional, but in the actual cake mix. The recipe comes from the bountiful Nigella’s Feast, a cookbook which keeps on giving. No matter how much batter I shmeer on it, its pages never get stuck together. No matter how many times I read it, I always find something new I want to make now. In this case, the Tropical Chocolate Cake, which hosts an intriguing mix of pineapple, chocolate and coconut flavours.

I decided to modify Nigella’s method somewhat. She makes an enticing two-layer cake sandwiched and slathered with a coconut meringue frosting. She says, a little snippily, to “lose the Bounty connection” if the idea of meringue palls somewhat, but I decided against it because I just couldn’t be bothered. Instead I made one bigger, bungalow-type cake smothered in a coconut custard buttercream. Still sounds good, right? In fact that’s all I’m-a talk about today, uncharacteristically. Because this cake is the only thing I’ve managed to get decent photos of.

Above: This isn’t exactly photographically sound, but then the food-processor shots don’t really have to be, do they? In fact they don’t even offer anything at all; they are what my media studies lecturer would call a “kernel,” that is, a sort of light, C-plot segment that doesn’t move the narrative forward but offers light relief from the main thrust of the action. Consider yourself schooled!

Tropical Chocolate Cake, adapted slightly from Feast

1x400g can pineapple pieces in juice
75g cream cheese
200g butter, pretty soft
200g flour
100g sugar
100g brown sugar
40g cocoa
2 eggs
1 t baking powder
1/2 t baking soda
2 T malibu or juice from the can of pineapple

Set the oven to 180 C (360 F) and line a 23cm Springform. First you want to whizz up the pineapple and cream cheese. Then add the rest of the ingredients, scraping occasionally with a spatula. Pour this alluringly delicious mix into the caketin, bake for roughly 40 minutes, maybe more. And uhm, that’s it. Simple, no?

I iced it with a mixture of 40g butter, 1 T custard powder, enough icing sugar to turn it into a cohesive substance, 1 t coconut essence, and a tablespoon each of milk and water. And then I thought I might as well dust it with chocolate sprinkles that I found in the cupboard. They were a year or two past their best before date, but how bad can sprinkles get?

It is moist, fragrant, delicious, and a genius combination of flavours. Very summery too, with elements of Pina Colada and Hawaiian Tropic Sunscreen. This hardly a bad thing; I say this as someone who can happily pass several minutes’ time sitting there inhaling the scent of a bottle of SPF 40+ (truly, it’s gooood.) As soon as I finished taking the photos of the cake it started raining again and hasn’t really stopped (it’s now Monday.)

Since the little tacker was so popular last time, and because Tim managed to catch this doozy of a picture, I thought we could be graced by the presence of *cough*Oscar the non-existent kitty*cough*.

I love that flagrant disdain he has for the laws of, you know, breathing.


Next time: well, the bread photos weren’t so crash-hot, hence their lack of presence here. Who knows?

Sugar Never Tasted So Good

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I have been a little frugal with my posting lately. This is partly due to the useless light for food photography (it’s pitch black outside at 5.30pm and glaringly lit within by energy-saver bulbs), but also, happily, because my mother and godmother were in town on a conference and have been recklessly indulging Tim and I in many meals out in town. Being relatively impoverished students we rarely go to restaurants and cafes so this was rather thrilling. As you may have read in my last post, I have been making a lot of soup for dinner – it’s so cheap – but there has been the occasional sweet respite hither and thither amongst the lentils and wholegrains. When it’s this cold outside – and inside – can you see your breath when you exhale in your house? – dinner alone isn’t always enough, one needs more, more more in the form of something (inevitably) buttery and sugary.

Crumble is the pudding I always turn to when I am cold and require quick solace and am unable to ignore my instinct to continue eating after dinner. The other night, as with all nights, I was feeling that way, and decided that an apple crumble for Tim and I wouldn’t be the end of the world. I plumped out the apples with a diced kiwifruit, and made a veeeerry generous topping of crumble (well, what’s the point if it’s only a mere sprinkling?) out of all manner of good things – butter, flour, custard powder, brown sugar, cinnamon, cardamom, oats, bran…

They were, like every crumble in the world, absolutely perfect. In particular I liked the nuttiness of the oats, the creaminess that the custard powder imparted, and the sharpness of the kiwifruit…


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I made the Pineapple Upside Down Cake from Nigella Express quite a while ago now but never got round to blogging about it what with one thing and another. It couldn’t be easier to make and is very good, I do love canned pineapple (drinking the leftover juice straight out of the can was always something I loved doing as a child) and it caramelises nicely under the batter. Unfortunately my can of pineapple rings didn’t cover the tin properly so I arranged some dried apricots here and there to fill in the gaps. Though you may think Nigella’s assertion that the inclusion of pineapple juice makes the cake layer fluffier is fanciful at best but honestly, it does…

Pineapple Upside Down Cake

100g each of butter, sugar, and flour
2 eggs
1 can of pineapple slices in juice (by my calculations you need 7 pieces), juice reserved
1 t baking powder
1/4 t baking soda
2 T sugar, extra

Set oven to 200 C. Nigella recommends either a 20cm tarte Tatin tin or a 23 cm cake tin, I, like perhaps many of you, do not own a tin de Tatin and so used the 23cm cake tin…I think a 20cm one would be better but then I do prefer a thicker layer of cake. Anyway, if you’re using a cake tin it’s not allowed to be a springform or loosebottomed one – for once. Sprinkle the 2 T extra sugar over the base of your tin and arrange the pineapple on top. Then, simply throw the rest of the ingredients in the food processor (or proceed with a wooden spoon) and make sure you remember to add 3 T of the reserved pineapple juice. Spread this over the pineapple, and don’t go eating any batter because there’s not a lot to go round. Bake for 30 minutes then carefully invert onto a plate. Slice into golden wedges of retro-deliciousness.

.It’s not all puddings. Sometimes a gal’s just got to bake gratuitiously. Oh sure, I can tell myself it’s for when Tim gets low blood sugar – and these have justified its existence in that respect more than once – but really, I just made these Apple Blondies for the sheer what-the-heckery of wanting to bake. I knew as soon as I saw the recipe on Kelly-Jane’s blog – and see it too for reference – that I was going to make them, and soon.

The first time I made these, I reduced the sugar greatly (Well, there’s 5 cups! In once recipe!) and halved the icing. They were great, but I realised the icing was there for a reason: it’s frigging magical. So, when I made them again just the other day, I was a bit more careful. I reduced the sugar in the batter, and replaced some of said sugar with dark, crumbly muscovado, which is so dense and caramelly and perfect with apples. I reduced the sugar by about a third in the icing, which meant there was still a nice thick spread of it. I doubled the apple content of the batter and added some milk because it seemed quite dry, which made for a much nicer blondie than my first batch. So, I might as well give you my adaptation of the recipe, but see Kelly-Jane’s blog for the original. Can I just point out though, that the original recipe calls for 2/3 of a cup of butter. Are there any Americans out there who can enlighten me how you measure butter in this way? America has bestowed upon us some fabulous things – Motown, The Baby Sitters Club, Idina Menzel, Johnny Cash, the concept of peanut butter as an ingredient…but I can’t fathom how measuring butter in cups is a good way of going about things.
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Apple Blondies with Brown Sugar Icing
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180g butter, softened
1 1/4 cups brown sugar (or a mix of brown and muscovado sugar, which I recommend)
2 eggs
2 apples, skin on, diced
2 cups plain flour
2 t baking powder
1/4 cup milk
As many walnuts as you like…although I find Brazil nuts lovely here.

This recipe is delightfully simple. Set your oven to 180 C and line a medium brownie tin (13 x 9 inches is what the recipe says) Beat the butter and sugar till fluffy and aerated, then add the eggs. If you are using a wooden spoon like I was, this will take a bit of muscle. Next, merely fold in the rest of the ingredients carefully, adding a little more milk if you deem it necessary. At this point do not whatever you do taste the mixture or you will never make it to the finished product. It is truly delicious stuff. Spread it into your prepared tin and bake for 25-30 minutes. Once cool, make the icing…

125g butter
1/2 cup muscovado sugar
2 T milk
1 1/2 cups icing sugar
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Melt the butter and muscovado sugar together in a saucepan, then add the milk, stirring all the time. Bring to the boil, then remove from the heat. Stir in the icing sugar once it has cooled a little, I didn’t actually measure the icing sugar at all, just stirred it in till I was happy with the consistency. Using a spatula, spread over your now-cooled blondies…

This stuff is wickedly, ridiculously, marvelously delicious. Prepare to win friends and influence people as they bid for a slice of it. If you can possibly help it, hold out till the next day (baking this at midnight if you have to) because it gets even better with a bit of time sitting round. I say this as a big fan of caramelly flavoured things, but it seems to be a crowd-pleaser across the board. Such superlatives have not been bandied about in my flat since the Chocolate Guinness Cake I made for St Paddy’s.

It has been a busy week, inbetween having a lovely time catching up with Mum, Tim and I were also in our first week back at uni. So far my classes are interesting (I’m in my third year of tertiary education and ‘interesting’ is the best I can come up with?) but I think it will be full-on as far as assignments are concerned.

Next time: I try Quinoa for the first time, thanks to Mum for giving me a bag of it…

Primal Ice Cream

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I said I was going to feature my raw-vegan-food experimenting, but, I lied. Should probably have thought a little harder before commiting to that “next time” feature. To make up for it; a post about ‘gasp’ JUST ONE DISH. The reason for such uncharacteristic brevity is not a sudden foray into the soul of wit, but to display my entry for the Ice Cream blogging event – my first ever go at a blogging event – at Mike’s Table: I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream For Frozen Desserts. While the name doesn’t trip off the tongue, it did get me inspired to make something frozen, perfectly timed for Wellington’s bitterest winter since July 1929. Disregard that last bit, as I made it up, but don’t disregard this amazing Cinnamon-Date ice cream. Which I also made up. See what I did there?

You may well wonder, where does she get off saying her own creation is amazing? Well, frankly it is. Lucky break, I guess, but there’s no need for false modesty. I’ve made this before, and looking back it is a nice pat-on-the-back reminder that I really did learn a bit in my photography class since then.

Above: All together now, “I wanna live with a cinnamon girl, I could be happy, the rest of my life…”

Cinnamon Date Ice Cream

This is an original recipe insofar as I (a) haven’t seen it anywhere before and (b) entirely invented it myself. Having said that, I am studiously avoiding googling it in case there are forty-squillion variations and it’s common as muck. You don’t need an ice cream maker for this because…I haven’t got one and have made perfectly lovely stuff without it. This is altered slightly from my original recipe, but only in the name of improvement.


150g dates, chopped
1/4 cup muscovado sugar
50g butter
1/4 cup water
2 t ground cinnamon
1 400g (or so) tin sweetened condensed milk
Full cream milk
500mls (2 cups) cream. Okay, so it’s not going to win any health awards.

Probably the most difficult thing about this recipe is chopping the dates. They are sticky and don’t take well to cleaving (well, would you?) Firstly, melt the butter in a good sized pan and stir in the brown sugar. Once it has combined into a caramelly puddle, tumble in your dates and water and stir thoroughly. The dates will soften and the whole thing will become almost jammy, add the same amount of water again if need be. Remove from the heat, and stir in the cinnamon and condensed milk. Now, fill up the empty can with full-cream milk and tip that into the pan, stirring the whole thing together thoroughly. Finally, whip the cream and fold it into the mixture. It will be a little odd as the date mixture is so liquidy, but persevere and it will come together without any trouble. Taste – and taste again because it’s so nice – and decide for yourself if it needs any more cinnamon. Pour into a container and freeze, stirring after a couple of hours to break things up a bit.

This is intensely fabulous – as I noted first time around, the cinnamon makes it somehow warming even though it’s frozen. The tooth-dissolving sweetness of the raw mixture is banked down when it freezes, leaving only caramelly smoothness. The dates become marvelously toffee-ish when frozen, almost like chunks of praline. Very grown-up stuff, and the perfect ice cream for winter.

So, there it is; my entry. I should note that I enjoyed being able to revisit one of my recipes, as I can’t really afford to test them out rigorously. I look forward to seeing what other people have come up with, to store the inspiration for when we are enjoying balmier climes…

I’ve already mentioned once or twice that I long to write one brilliant cookbook, but as I was walking to work (via a visit to Tim at Starbucks) I had – and one must turn to Elphaba who says it best – “a vision almost like a prophecy; I know it sounds truly crazy, and true, the vision’s hazy…” It was so unbelievably simple that I ground to a halt. I want more than just a cookbook-I want – one day – a bakery/cafe, where I make all sorts of goodies – including inventive gluten-free fare, fresh-baked bread rolls, and any number of amazing cakes and cakelets. Tim could make the coffee and manage the mathmatical side of things, and he could also be my chief recipe taster. I could purchase lots of mismatched, otherwise-unloved second-hand chairs and cutlery and cups and saucers and play only fantastic music over the speakers. Tim’s coffee would be incredible (the boy has talent) and we’d have Havana and Mojo and Illy and all the other big names fighting to be our providers. In the summer I could make tubs of ice cream to dish out by the coneful, and in the winter, a huge pot of ever-simmering soup. We’d live in the flat above the shop, and never branch out into a franchise – just keep it cosy and exclusive. We’d have a whole host of regulars – possibly including an inscrutible customer who drinks black coffee and types on their laptop and eventually goes on to write the great New Zealand novel – And from there I could write and finance my cookbook, while doing a little freelance subediting on my computer (no, I haven’t let go of that one, it’s just the idea of a life spent hunting solely for mis-placed semicolons seems a little…cold.) And one day our bakery-cafe would be known as an icon of wherever it may be located.

Well, a gal’s got to have a dream, doesn’t she? I don’t know why it suddenly hit me that this was what I wanted, I’ve never had any real desire to work in hospitality (I can tell you now, I’d be a terrible waitress) and I even worked in a bakery for the better part of a year without thinking it was where I wanted to make my career. But such is the prerogative of youth. Tim even seemed enthusiastic. Well, I said “accounts” very quickly and “chief taster” loud and slow. Obviously it can’t happen for a good long while – does there still exist those cosy little shops with flats above them? But you might as well know because there’s only so long I can keep this thrilling, distracting idea hugged to myself, and I don’t see any reason why it can’t work out exactly as I’d like it to.

Finally – we had a visitor on Thursday.

One of the particularly charming things about where I live is the dense cat population. I’d never seen this particular kitty before though. He was a solid, brickish cat, entirely grey, and BIG. He reminded me of the late Micky, a cat who was also barrell-like and vocal. This cat had the most peculiar miow, it sort of went…mirwooo.
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Above: He wasn’t camera-shy, either.
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Next time: Forty-seven different dishes in one post, including, definitely, the raw veganry.

“Reasons/To Justify Each Move…”

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I have a bad habit of telling Tim about things I was going to, but didn’t. Like, “oh Tim, I was going to buy you No Country For Old Men on DVD for you but I didn’t because it was too expensive,” or, “I was going to photocopy that Raconteurs interview I found in a magazine at work but then I ran out of time,” or, “I was going to hang out the washing but…I didn’t.” I sort of justify it by saying, hopefully, “it’s the thought that counts?”
A bit like how I justify my complaining by saying to him “if I didn’t complain, you wouldn’t know how I feel!” (and then inevitably find out that he has had a mercilessly sore tooth for three days and not said a word.)
Today I found myself in the changing room at Portmans with some cardigan despite trying to save money – I don’t even like Portmans, I was in town to buy the book American Psycho for uni! But if I didn’t tell you, you wouldn’t know…
I’ve made these gluten-free brownies before, and had a hankering to make them again, brought on partly out of necessity – the bananas in the freezer were taking up too much room and needed to be dealt with. Oh, and although blackened, overripe bananas are often said to be the best for baking, no-one ever mentions how disgusting they are to handle. There’s something unbelievably nasty about their softly slippery texture, and the creepy oozy liquid left behind from the skins. (Still feel like brownies?) Sorry, but someone had to say it. No matter, once incorporated into the mix, they are nothing but delicious.
I won’t repeat the recipe because you can just click the link above, but I added a spoonful of golden syrup this time, and cooked it for slightly less – 25 minutes at 180, then 10 minutes at 150. Don’t know why, it just instinctively felt right.
And ohhh how delicious they tasted, emitting cries of “but they don’t even taste gluten-free!” from those who tried them. I realise it’s easy for me, a red-blooded gluten-muncher, to say, but for all that I’m thankful for advances in technology I love gluten-free baking where you don’t have to go purchasing forty different bags of various flours and pastes to make the whole thing stick together. These brownies are tenderly bound with the magical alchemy of peanut butter, bananas, cocoa, and eggs, and somehow come together to taste squidgy and densely chocolatey, and not at all like some kind of sawdusty substitute.
That’s not all I baked. At work yesterday, I was flipping through a magazine and no sooner had I snidely commented “You know, I’m never really inspired by the food section of the New Zealand Woman’s Weekly, there’s something so dull and prosaic about their recipes…” than I found myself contritely scribbling down TWO recipes onto post-it notes because I wanted to try them myself. To the NZWW: I apologise. The following recipe is brilliant…
I was very taken with the idea of this chewy slice, containing some of my favourite things – caramelly dates, walnuts, dark chocolate (I threw in some pumpkin seeds)…and there’s no butter in it which sort of keeps costs down (of course, once you’ve bought walnuts and chocolate it’s hardly cheap, but c’est la vie). The recipe itself called for a 400g pack of dates which I thought would swamp the delicate mixture, so I used about 300g. Oh and it asked for vanilla essence, for shame! Use vanilla extract or vanilla sugar, but don’t ruin your gorgeous ingredients with essence, please….

Chewy Date, Walnut and Chocolate Slice
2 eggs
3/4 cup sugar
3/4 cup self-raising flour
Dates, chopped, between 300 – 400g as you see fit
Chopped walnuts (they ask for a cup, I just threw in a handful willy-nilly)

Dark chocolate, chopped, I used about 100g

 

Turn your oven to 160 C. Beat eggs and sugar together like mad for about five minutes, till pale, thick and moussy. Use a whisk, it’s good arm excercise and means you can eat more slice later. Oh and try not to do what I did, which was dribble batter onto the bench, then accidentally hit the whisk’s handle so it flings batter all over the stove top and onto my face and clothes…gently, gently, fold in the flour, then the extra bits, and spread into a baking-paper lined medium sized brownie tin. I use a big piece of paper which overlaps at the edges so I can lift it out in one go afterwards for slicing. Bake for 35 minutes, and I recommend leaving it for a bit before you slice it. Nonetheless, this is easy and quick enough to whip up should company unexpectedly arrive demanding tea and cakes (without actually saying so, of course.)
Above: Paul and I were the only ones home when I made this so donned our tester hats, (I made him vow that if it turned out to be a disastrous mess we’d bin it and pretend I’d never baked anything in the first place). Luckily, it was fabulous, the moussy eggs and sugar baked into a light casing for the delicious fillings, and as I bit in I never knew if my teeth were going to hit buttery walnuts, chewy dates, or soft, melting chocolate…It cracks a bit on top as you cut it, but this isn’t really a problem unless you’re making it for the sort of person for whom aesthetic issues like this are a problem, but as I try not to associate with people like that I think things will work out nicely. I can definitely see myself making this again and again in the future.
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I mentioned quite a while ago that Rent is closing on Broadway – juuuust too soon for me to consider actually going there to see it (well, we have to get to England first, let alone New York) but the original cast are going to appear at the 2008 Tony Awards sometime this month, so hopefully some bright spark puts it on Youtube asap. Speaking of Youtube and Rent, there was recently a benefit concert of Chess with Idina Menzel and Adam Pascal (I know!) Although I was lucky enough to see many musicals as a youth I never caught Chess, but after watching a couple of clips on Youtube, wow! “Nobody’s Side” is one heck of a song, the sort you want to start again as soon as it finished. And I did. It made so much sense when I found out that the two B components of ABBA were behind the writing of the music…

"I’m As Free As A Bird Now…"

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“and this bird you cannot change…ohhhhhh….*twelve minute guitar solo*….” ahem. Don’t mind me, I’m just practically floating due to the enormous weight lifted from my shoulders – to wit – my last photography class was today. Hence why I’ve been humming Freebird (a song that will forever remind me of my parents dancing at their 25th wedding anniversary party four years ago…and yes, there’s much more to Lynyrd Skynyrd than Sweet Home Alabama for those of you who only have the Forest Gump soundtrack…)

Because I’m feeling so darn sweet I’ve decided to stick to pudding photos tonight…dinner can wait for another day. Last night I was in a sort of crazy limbo zone – I’d submitted my final assignment for photography but I still had today’s class to get through. However after all the many hours of my life that had gone into it (let me tell you, it’s not fun walking home through the red light district in torrential rain at 9.30pm and knowing you have to go back again tomorrow to wrangle photoshop) I decided that a small pudding would be appropriate. So; crumble for two.


Above: I didn’t follow Nigella’s recipe at all (I’m talking about the Jumbleberry Crumble from Nigella Express) apart from cooking times, but I definitely credit her with the inspiration. I mean, I didn’t have anything resembling “jumbleberries” and I always just make up my own crumble toppings…but I wouldn’t have thought to make it had I not been flicking through this book.

My version ended up having a base of canned peaches and a sliced apple. Low-rent, sure, but I love canned peaches, and I have a bit of a nostalgic view of them (well, as nostalgic as someone who only turned 22 last month can possibly be) since quite a few of the puddings I had as a child involved canned peaches…Peach crumble, for one thing, but also peach sponge-topped pudding, peaches and ice cream, peaches, cornflakes and evaporated milk…I tend to make a lot of crumble topping – even for two smallish ramekins – out of foresight, because there’s no use pretending I won’t eat half of it before it gets sprinkled on the fruit. Have you ever tried raw crumble topping? There’s something incredible about that combo of butter, brown sugar, flour…I also craftily added a large spoonful of custard powder which gave a certain creaminess to the crumble mixture, and made the fruit somehow saucier. Anyway before your arteries start throbbing in sympathy I added rolled oats to this as well which means that the butter barely even counts. These were so delicious – I don’t make crumble that much, but every time I do it feels like the perfect, unimprovable pudding and I wonder why the heck I ever make anything else.


Above: Buddino Di Cioccolata, half done. I knew I was going to want something rather ridiculous for pudding tonight to celebrate. What could be more ridiculous than this silky, silky chocolate pudding? (also from Nigella Express)

I used some of my Donovan’s 80% dark chocolate purchased from the Wellington Food Show. I only tried the milk (which is 50%) at the show, so I couldn’t resist having a nibble of this…I was very impressed, it was smooth and dark and slightly bitter but rounded (not sure if I’m describing this properly here) and perfect to counter the richness of this pudding. No recipe this time because I just can’t be bothered but I found a copy of it here (sorry it’s in American measurements though!)


Above: I took this photo on top of our washing machine. The cup was part of a Living Kitchen set that my flatmates got me for my 21st last year and as you can see, doesn’t just have to be used for measuring…This chocolate pudding was just so silky, I realise that’s the third time I’ve used the word but I just can’t think of a more pertinent synonym right now. Seriously, the texture is amazing, and provided you have fairly decent cocoa and chocolate, so is the flavour. Tim, Paul and I ate this while watching Scrubs tonight (that show has managed not to jump the shark yet, am I right? Mind you, there was that musical episode…) and all agreed that yes, Nigella is high priestess of the universe. What better way to celebrate never having to stress about photog again than with chocolate?
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Speaking of amazing women…I’m sorry to keep bothering you with Idina Menzel videos (*voice offstage* “you’re not sorry at all!”) but truly, I am continually astounded by Youtube. (and her, obvs.) Just when I think there can’t be much left to find, a video will pop up that I’ve never seen before. Tim, bless him, keeps pretending to be interested when I relay this information to him. Tonight I discovered what is allegedly Idina’s first performance of Over The Moon from when Rent moved to Broadway. Even if it’s not, it’s the only video of this song that I’ve seen from that era – 1996! – and it’s an amazing piece of history…
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Thank you deeply for the ongoing well-wishing during my photography class, I hope I didn’t come across as too petulant (even though most of the time I probably was being petulant) because I did get a lot out of the class and also appreciate all your kind words! Here’s hoping next term isn’t quite so stressful. If I sound a little manic in this post, well, you already know why. I still have two exams to get through but it’s amazing how much lighter my brain feels already. Oh, and funnily enough all this business with my photography assignment hasn’t put me off Tetris. In the Guinness Book of Records Gamers Edition (yes, such things exist), I found that the record score was 9,999,999. I think I’ve got it in me to challenge that…