When it comes to cooking, I like to keep things pretty simple. Well, most of the time anyway. When it comes to life, I like to do the same. And it's the simplest things that make me happiest. The no fuss, the no drama, the back to basics.
24 April 2014
When it comes to Anzac biscuits I'm a strong believer in tradition. There is no room for dried cranberries or chocolate chips or raisins. That does not maketh an Anzac. That's pretty much blasphemy. It's like putting peanut butter and butter on toast. It's like having potato wedges with barbecue sauce instead of sour cream and chilli. It's like having vegemite on pancakes. In my world, it just doesn't fly.
16 April 2014
If I were trapped on a desert island and I could only take three things they would be water, hot cross buns and instagram. And to be honest if I had the option, I'd probably swap the water for lindt 80% dark chocolate - but I know I'd get thirsty eating all those hot cross buns. Forget easter eggs, easter holidays are ALL about sugar and spice and all things nice. Which pretty much equals hot cross buns.
7 April 2014
I imagine there's a moment that every mother dreads in their children's lives. It's not the terrible twos, or teething or those horrible teenage years, or that moment when your children move out and join the Real World. No it's the moment in the car ride home from primary school. The moment when, before Mum can get in a word edgewise, you ask "What's for dinner mum?". I was notorious for it. My poor Mum. It basically got to the point where you'd probably think Mum's name was HiMumWhatisForDinner. I'm not sure if it's because I was desperately hungry or because I'd been thinking about dinner all day, or if it was so I could decide if it was going to be a Good Dinner or a Bad Dinner. Which in turn meant I could calculate how many biscuits I'd eat for afternoon tea before dinner.
15 March 2014
When I was a kid, there were certain things that I labelled 'real treats'. A real treat, was something that shouldn't EVER be taken for granted. For starters there was the bottle of vanilla coca cola that mum would buy at the beginning of the summer school holidays. If we were super lucky there might be a packet of sour cream and chive pringles. My sisters and I would sit outside, devouring our junk food treats, bursting with excitement (and sugar) while we all took turns shaking the last third of coca cola to get rid of the bubbles so I could share. (Side note - bubbles and I do not agree with each other. Exceptions have been made later in life for Champagne.)
23 February 2014
If you're anything like me, you've probably always got leftovers in the fridge. Leftovers are great, a total saviour on those days when you can't muster any energy to actually cook. Leftovers are a saving grace when you can't bear to look at another soggy tuna and cucumber sandwich for lunch. I always seem to have a little bit of leftover something in the fridge. But that's the trouble, it's only a LITTLE bit. Like not quite enough to turn into a proper meal, but too much to waste by throwing out.
12 February 2014
With Valentine's day around the corner, there is a total influx of heart shaped EVERYTHING. Look I'm all for love, but really is the invention of a heart shaped frying pan so you can make your significant other a heart shaped egg and bacon roll for breakfast, really a necessity?!
25 January 2014
I've made several self discoveries about myself this week. Some of them totally new, and some of them totally old but seemed to rear their heads this week. The most horrifying of which is I snore. Well I think I do. Something woke me up in the middle of the night and it sounded awfully like a freight train. The only obvious explanation is that there was indeed a freight train rattling through my bedroom. Obviously. Or I have some sort of super rare sinus/brain/nasal condition, because I certainly don't snore.
14 January 2014
10 January 2014
Do you ever eat something and somehow you're miraculously transported back in time. You know that feeling when you're eating a red frog, something you haven't done in probably about 10 years, and somehow you're back to being that 9 year old who would save up all their pocket money, and then run around to the corner shop to spend it on a bag of red frogs. Or even the smell of orange juice can take you back to the first time you ever decided to make dinner for the family and you made this
delicious hideous pasta that was basically a concoction of garlic, red capsicum and orange juice (don't ask - it was the 90s and I didn't have a great sense of flavour at the ripe old age of 13) and you can still feel that sense of pride and accomplishment every time you think about it. It's like a food portkey hurtling you back in time.