<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> <HTML> <HEAD> <TITLE>RagingYoghurt : adventures in good eating etc</TITLE> <meta name=keywords content="saw mei ying, meiying saw, bobbie saw, bowb, raging yoghurt, raging yogurt, raging yoghourt, drawings, design, disgruntlement, blog, food"> <style type="text/css" media="screen"> @import url( http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/bloghurtstyle.css ); </style> <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="http://www.cia.com.au/bowbcam/ragingyoghurt/bloghurt/bloghurtstyle.css" /> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.haloscan.com/load.php?user=bowb"> </script> </HEAD> <BODY BGCOLOR="#ffffff" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" topmargin="0" leftmargin="0"> <MAP NAME="blogbutton"> <AREA SHAPE="rect" COORDS="423, 31, 463, 72" HREF="http://bowb.pitas.com"> </MAP> <IMG SRC="http://www.ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/bloghead2004.gif" USEMAP="#blogbutton"> <HR WIDTH=100% NOSHADE SIZE=1 COLOR="#FFCCCC"> <TABLE WIDTH=480 cellpadding=12> <TR> <TD WIDTH=140 valign=top>

</TD> <TD VALIGN=TOP>  <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/choconanacrepe.jpg"> </div> on the eve of new year's eve, my funny aunt was adamant that i should partake of the post-xmas sales so she drove me and maeve to chaswood for the afternoon. "i don't really have anything to buy," i protested. "well. maybe a non-slip mat for the bath tub." and then suddenly there was a melanine bowl and platter, for the child; a mini muffin baking tray, for the child; two dr seuss books, for the child; a non-slip mat for the bath tub, for the child; and a tin of vanilla tea, from the reduced xmas food shelves, for me. we adjourned for afternoon tea in a basement food court, and i hovered at the bubble tea shop toying with the idea of ordering an ice mountain. the lit-up picture was most enticing: a great matterhorn of multicoloured ice, surrounded with a selection of jellies and red bean. but then i had to point at this thing that appeared on the counter, a tall sundae glass full of colourful swirls and other treasures, green and pink and brown and milky and a high peak of shaved ice drenched in bright syrups. "what's that?" i asked the counterboy. "oh, that is rainbow ice," he replied. "ohhh. is it better than ice mountain?" "..." he thought about it. "uh. ice mountain has five flavours, and rainbow ice has six." "oh, so rainbow ice is better?" "you want the rainbow ice?" "yes, please!" "do you want condensed milk or coconut milk?" "...i...don't...know... which one is better?" when it was done, mine was much less swirly and colourful, topped with only a cursory mound of pink ice, and came in a plastic tumbler, so i suppose that woman, who had received the showcase model, she was probably his mother. but it was sweet and cold. and the child kept l lunging at it with open mouth and crazy eyes, until i distracted her with a chocolate and banana crepe. making the crepe, the counterboy placed an entire sliced banana next to a handful of chocolate melts. god forbid anyone would want the chocolate melting all over the warm banana. anyway, that didn't end up being an issue, because barely enough time elapsed on the hot plate for significant melting to take place before monsieur crepe was plated. "do you want ice cream or cream?" asked the counterboy. this really threw me because the sign said "all crepes served with cream and ice cream." in the end, i picked the ice cream, and it was the smallest scoop on the world, as though it were a postage stamp on the surface of the crepe, just enough postage to make it to my mouth. it also had a peculiar gummy texture. but maeve saved me from dwelling on all the deficiencies of it by miraculously mastering the art of the spoon, and scooping the lot into her mouth. the chocolate was compound. Served on Saturday, December 31, 2005 at 10:34 a.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('311205');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('311205');</script></a> --- living this close to the water this close to christmas has meant that most nights at least one party boat sails past my window. they are ferry-sized boats, lit up all twinkly, and they spew music across the harbour like those hotted-up cars that pull up next to you at the traffic lights, and the windows are down because the person inside, they love this music so much they want to share it with the world, dum-cha, dum-cha, dum! in the last week i have been serenaded by michael jackson ("billy jean"), barnsey ("working class man") and guns 'n' roses ("sweet child of mine", which really does take me away to a special place every time i hear it). last night i heard a great whoop blow in across the water, and when i looked out the window i saw that it was two party boats passing each other, and the drunken revellers were just exchanging hellos. the whoop went on and on, nothing, i suspect, like what the people in the olden days might have imagined when they gave us "passing like ships in the night". but tonight, xmas eve, all is quiet. i've eaten two bowls of rice and cauliflower, cabbage, eggplant and mince hotpot, drunk a glass of festive pink punch made up of half pink grapfruit juice and half solo, watched the gilmore girls and done a large amount of dishes. now here i sit with a cup of genmaicha and a chocolate covered marzipan bar. it is unlikely i'll finish it; perhaps i'll leave it out for santa. ding dong merrily! Served on Saturday, December 24, 2005 at 09:56 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('241205');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('241205');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/blupop.jpg"> </div> two picnics in five days! i really do enjoy a picnic, even (or maybe, especially) when the preparation, in today's case, has been along the lines of, "let's get something from that food court," and "shall we take it to that park on the corner?". sunday afternoon, we walked down darling in the hot hot heat. stopping at <a href="http://www.aboutlife.com.au" target=new>about life</a> for as long as it took to procure: - a bag of paprika potato chips - a punnet of blueberries and a punnet of raspberries - a large fruit salad, consisting two kinds of melon, pineapple, mango, strawberries and blueberries (so many blueberries -- the ladle girl kept scooping extra spoons of blueberries as afterthoughts!) - a tub of fetta stuffed red peppers - a pearl barley salad and a roast vegetable salad - a blueberry pop for me: watermelon, blueberries and sorbet in a blender - a bottle of organic ginger beer for the boy: the surprise at checkout was that it cost $ 5.20 for 500ml. ...then continued walking (and walking and walking) to callan park where sprawling and eating ensued. dinner that evening was unnecessary, although i suddenly found myself finishing a half-eaten bag of paprika chips, and instantly regretting it. this afternoon, we caught a ferry into the city and stumbled into a nearby food court that was just working up to lunchtime crush. we came away with: - a schnitzel and eggplant focaccia sandwich for the boy - a schnitzel and avocado and lettuce (like, a lettuce patch worth of shredded lettuce) wrap for me - a very unusual pear, fetta and walnut salad (dressed in wholegrain mustard and mayonnaise. and raisins. we like a schnitzel, our lot. although we figure the baby probably liked the pear more, the way she shoved fistfuls of it into her mouth, one after the other without bothering with such minor technicalities as swallowing... until we hid the tub of salad and pointed her in the direction of an ugly ibis. Served on Thursday, December 22, 2005 at 06:58 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('221205_2');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('221205_2');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/laughingcow.jpg"> </div> i mostly never buy soft, white bread, ever. but seeing <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/roboppy/75011176/" target=new>two tubs of pork floss</a> on the internet forced me out the door and down the street one afternoon to find myself a loaf. i just had to have pork floss on buttered bread. two days of pork floss buttered bread breakfasts later, i'd had my fill. what to do with soft, white bread? i didn't want to waste my fancy jams on it, and it would've been too meek to stand up to a scraping of vegemite. yes, i could've made french toast... but that would've entailed "effort". behold, the laughing cow cheese spread, bought on a whim at the supermarket last week. if you are unfamiliar with this product, it is sold as a little round cardboard box of individually foil-wrapped wedges with a little red plastic tag for easy unwrapping. the box label as well as the sticker on each cheese wedge features a red laughing cow. when i was in vietnam a couple years ago, street vendors sold laughing cow banh mi sandwiches. i'd sort of wanted some back then, but the thought of cheese that had been sitting out in the tropical sun all day made me wary. this mild creamy spread is filed in my head as one of the tastes of my childhood, although the truth is we hardly ever had this at home*. my mother was more of a kraft singles mum; she even got the experimental flavours like "hawaiian" which had bits of pineapple mixed into the individually wrapped slices. *oh! i have just remembered: it is possible to buy laughing cow obanyaki in singapore, and i did. that explains it. soft, white cheese on soft, white bread: a perfect pairing. Served on Thursday, December 22, 2005 at 06:25 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('221205');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('221205');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/3redfruits.jpg"> </div> call it reality blogging; this is what i'm eating as i type. a bowl of cherries, strawberries and raspberries, all sweet and flavoursome. it's making me quite delirious with joy (or is it just the fruit sugars?)... except. there's a sound of something being dropped in the sink upstairs, and some swearing, and then soft footsteps later, here is the boy at my side holding my most favourite drinking glass which i bought in new york several years ago, in three pieces. call it irony; the emblem, now in two pieces, says, "drink cheer up". meh. <center> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/chrup.gif"> </center> Served on Tuesday, December 20, 2005 at 08:54 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('201205');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('201205');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/monstercake.jpg"> </div> lessons i have learnt this week: if you make banana buttermilk pancakes on sunday, and then save the rest of the buttermilk for an opportune moment when you can make a chocolate cake, even if it's just two days later, when it comes to the part in the recipe where you add the buttermilk, you will find that you now have half a carton of thick, tangy yoghurt. if you substitute normal milk for the buttermilk, the cake turns out fine, in as much as a cake can when you're still experimenting with the hidden hotspots in a still-unfamiiliar fan-forced oven. if the top of the cake rises way too quickly, and cracks a big, gaping smile all the way around one side, you can shave off the extra high upper lip, and then use pieces of it to fill in the sludgy hole in the middle of the cake where it hasn't quite cooked through, which you discovered when you sliced the cake in two. if you sandwich the cake back together with <a href="http://www.elsastory.com/products_files/prd_Preserved_pink_grapefruit.htm" target=new>the pink grapefruit preserve</a> that <a href="http://www.stellou.com" target=new>nellie</a> gave you the last time she was in town, it will be a subtle and unexpected citrusy edge to the dark chocolate cake. if you hide the scarred surface of the cake with a simple but decadent icing made of dark chocolate melted down with a bit of butter and a bit of milk, and if the chocolate you use is <a href="http://www.scharffenberger.com/ourchocolate.php?osCsid=d01de6a926f007aac9c0f4d759a2938d" target=new>scharffen berger</a>, which also came by way of nellie, it will be all glossy good. it is a most agreeable thing eating chocolate cake for afternoon tea on the balcony, sharing alternate mouthfuls with the child, watching the planes go past. if you leave chocolate cake on the kitchen bench in the moist, warm summertime, on the fifth day it will develop an intricate lace of tiny bubbles across its glossy chocolate icing, and make you wonder what will happen should you have another slice tomorrow. Served on Sunday, December 18, 2005 at 08:27 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('181205');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('181205');</script></a> --- i was writing an entry, which began: "everything is a little awry. a tad askew. maybe it all started a few days ago when the child pulled at the ribbon strap peeking tantalisingly over the edge of the table, and brought mr camera down with a resounding clunk. despite the clunk-that-means-business, it appeared that everything was fine -- still took photographs, and stored them on the XD card -- until i tried to turn off the camera and then discovered that the lens no longer retreats all the way into the body of the camera. in fact it retracts as far as it can, than stops and thinks about it, extends itself fully, and then tries again to become streamline... but in vain! all the while it makes a sad little whiny noise, before it gives up into a disappointed silence." ...and waffled... mmm... waffles... on for a bit more, and then i got distracted and wandered off for several hours, and then i got back and lost interest, as i'm sure you have. but wait! i have something for you! a festive quiz to celebrate the season which is upon us. [ via <a href="http://waki.lifewithchrist.org/2005/12/04/what-chrioststmas-ornament-are-you.html" target=new>jaki</a> ] <a href="http://quizilla.com/users/extraterrestrial/quizzes/What%20Christmas%20Ornament%20are%20you%3F/" target=new>what xmas ornament are you?</a> <center> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/holly.jpg"> </center> i am the christmas holly. although prickly, it is said to be able to repel poison and defend from witchcraft. old legend declares that holly first sprung under christ's footsteps, its thorny and scarlet berries, like drops of blood, are symbolic of christ's sufferings. ho.ho.ho. Served on Friday, December 16, 2005 at 02:58 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('161205');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('161205');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/soylinseed.jpg"> </div> the apple has left the building. i never really had the chance to bond with it, so y'know, whatever. in fact, to celebrate the return of 00 to my bank account, i walked across the mall and bought a .15 loaf of bread. this is the most expensive loaf of bread i've ever bought... um, unless you count that time i was in new york when the australian dollar was like, US50c -- fiddycent -- then i suppose all those loaves of bread win. damn you dean and deluca chocolate challah! .15 is not the most expensive loaf of bread i could buy though, around these parts. up the street at victoire, they have a saturday special loaf. this is because the raising agent in this particular loaf is a bottle of french beer. they are kind enough to sell you half a loaf, if is too much (because, obviously for a half loaf is much easier to swallow). why am i telling this story? i don't know. for the record, .15 buys you a work of art: <a href="http://www.sonoma.com.au/" target=new>sonoma</a>'s organic soy and linseed sourdough. chewy and tangy, and studded with whole soybeans. truly, worth every cent. all 715 of them. [ insert clever pun: "that's a lot of bread! guffaw!" ] i'm sorry. i don't know what has come over me. perhaps it is the worms. our backyard has become infested with giant worms. fat, stubby giant worms. last week, i said to the boy "i was hanging out the laundry today, and there was an enormous slater-looking wormy thing on the ground, and i thought it was dead and after, when i went to remove it, it was gone!" i hate when that happens. when the dead cockroach/worm/slug/etc turns out not to be dead after all. they scuttle away and laugh at you from the shadows as your head whips round, a little panicky. where are you? "those are native cockroaches," said the boy. he is learned. "leave them alone." in the ensuing week, these native cockroaches started crawling out of the bushes in great numbers (so call me overreacting, but in the case of giant worms, three is a great enough number), and because it's been so hot of late -- 38ƒC on thursday -- they have been dying of heatstroke on the sunbaked tiles and then gradually blackening over the next few days. saturday, the boy was outback, and i pointed out the three corpses in varying stages of carbonisation. "why are they called native cockroaches anyway? they don't even look like cockroaches?" "oh. those aren't native cockroaches. i thought you were talking about something else." !! "so they're just giant worms?" "yup." i was hanging out the laundry later, and i looked over at the child, who'd been quietly poking at a pile of dried leaves with a garden fork. she made a grimacy, wincy face and held out to me a flaccid black thing. it was a dead giant worm!! i don't know if it was an instinctive girly reaction or if she had actually licked it, but we got the hell out of there, after i checked to see that the worm was still intact (it was), and shook her hand most violently to release the worm. i mean, i surely wasn't going to touch it. shudder. Served on Monday, December 12, 2005 at 04:56 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('121205');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('121205');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/minikaiseki.jpg"> </div> i was feeling virtuous the other night, having finally stepped into the swimming pool for actual swimming, as opposed to paddling or splashing about or pushing the baby and her floaty-seat-ring from one end of the pool to the other. i set my ambitions low; after all it had been a ghastly 20 months or so since i had the pleasure of doing laps. but after i'd done five, i thought maybe i could get to ten, and then when i reached ten, it didn't seem so hard to get to fifteen, and by twenty-two i thought i could probably get to thirty... but i didn't stick around to find out. instead i came home, and made myself a celebratory mini kaiseki: miso soup with spinach and wheat cakes (the spinach and wheat cakes come freezedried in a silver sachet!), steamed beans, pumpkin and potato in a sesame-mirin-dressing, some bits of chinatown chicken and duck, and because we like carbohydrates around here, a bowl of white rice. how pleasant, this tingly feeling in one's muscles. Served on Thursday, December 8, 2005 at 10:37 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('081205');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('081205');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/orlakiely.jpg"> </div> what is a blog for if not to taunt a sibling on the other side of the world about treats you just found on a chinatown expedition? after a <a href="http://www.stellou.com/2005/10/of-all-nights-to-go-to-kew-gardens-we.html" target=new>wanton display of white rabbits</a> -- lychee white rabbits -- which i instantly coveted, nellie was nice enough to actually send me some. you know white rabbits, no? the milky chewy candy wrapped up in a slip of rice paper? i was about to say that the lychee ones are even better, being somewhat less cloying and milky, but perhaps it is more accurate to say they are different. a little sharper with a mysterious and subtle... hmm, what's that flavour? aahh. lychee! a package of candy in the mail is a sweet surprise, but candy arranged snug in a blue leather candy purse (from <a href="http://www.orlakiely.com/site/pages/world2/panorama.htm" target=new>orla kiely</a> no less) is an interactive experience involving placing said purse on a worthy surface and savouring its beauty, unzipping and zipping and unzipping and removing piece by piece the candy, noting the differences between the original white rabbit wrappers and these ones (smiling lychee duo atop a banner reading "lychee" in chinese and english, with a tiny white rabbit logo along the edge), and then placing each little baton neatly back in its place. and then repeating the sequence over the next couple of days before finally unwrapping one and eating it, slowly. well, that was my experience. a much more awful experience is taking a dud powerbook into the apple service centre at broadway, where the girl on reception will negate everything the phone support guys have told you over the last two days, and ask if you would like to book your brand new dud in and have the problem assessed in seven to ten working days. "you ask like i have an option," i said. "why, what else can i do?" "yeah, no, yeah, you have to book it in." she was blonde, but also, she was young. if i want it seen to faster i can pay 0 for a rush service. she will not let me use her phone to call the support line, or the store, to verify all she has told me. "the apple shop and the apple phone support and us, we are all separate agencies and have nothing to do with each other. and we cannot call and speak on anyone's behalf. ever. we can't let you use our phones because it will tie up our lines. and we do not seem to have a phonebook we can lend you." resisting the urge to break her or the shiny white computer on her desk -- or let's be honest, the chunk of aluminium alloy weighing me down, i embarked on a chinatown expedition of my own. specifically i wanted meats. chinatown meats! but i was open to anything else that might throw itself in my way. in front of a sweet shop i made the kind of abrupt stop where your whole body goes rigid, and then anchored at the feet, the top of you wobbles a bit and vibrates to a halt. they had constructed a stove in the window and were cooking up a storm of obanyaki. four flavours of obanyaki: redbean, custard ("the best in sydney", is what the sign said), chocolate, and green tea. "delicious!" said mr. sign, and "buy three for !", which i thought was diabolically clever, because which flavour does one leave out? in fact, none, because i played into their dastardly plan, and came away with custard, redbean, two chocolates and two green teas. "thank you. have a great day," said the smiley counter girl. and then meats were procured: char siu and siu yok and, because i couldn't decide between soya chickane -- i typed chicken, and this is what came out instead -- and roast duck, i got a half of each. and green sauce. and because the bubble tea merchant is just a few doors down, and there was a sign outside that said, "happy 4th birthday easy way, 20% off all drinks", i added some mango blended ice (for the boy) and pickled plum blended ice (for me) to my trusty shopping bag. who's the postergirl for that modern affliction of buying stuff to make you feel better? that would be me, doing lucky dips for obanyaki at the bus stop. it was the custard one, and may well have been the best in sydney, still warm and cakey on the outside, and creamy-gooey hot custard within. Served on Saturday, December 3, 2005 at 07:58 a.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('031205');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('031205');</script></a> --- i don't know how these things happen. saturday morning i left the house, leaving a speech bubble trailing behind me: "im just going to the apple shop up the street. and then maybe i'll go into the city. i'm not buying a computer today. i'm just going to have a look. i'm not buying a computer today. i'm just researching. i'm not buying..." going to the apple shop is like going to a cake shop, all those things i want to lick and touch, behind glass display cases. the cake shop is generally more fun, because i usually come away with something, and in the process i haven't had to think of smart-sounding questions to ask the salesperson so he doesn't think i'm a bimbo. so, saturday, i think i asked about RAM and processors, and running classic, and so they knew i was a savvy consumer, i also asked if they give discounts for cash sales. ("yes, but not much," was the reply.) and then the bus to the city, and a bowl of hae mee (which, due to the two halves of a prawn and the 27 strips of chicken gracing the noodles, should be renamed "kae mee"), and a lift up to electronics where i asked about RAM and processors and classic, and "what do you mean, i won't be able to start up in OS9 unless i have a hardware-specific version of the installation software and where do i get this from and are you serious? my friends or ebay?" at one point, one of the questions i asked was, "what's the difference between this model and this model?", identical but for 0 off the one hidden in the shadows. "oh. this one," said the salesperson, pointing to the slightly more expensive one gleaming in the spotlights, "has a faster graphics card..." "um. uh huh?" "but also, if you take this one we will throw in microsoft office and a bag." "oh. um." i said. "what colour is the bag?" shortly after that i had to take the lift back downstairs. besides telling me that the bag was available in black and red or black and green, the salesperson also told me that the promotion ended today, no, actually, tomorrow. i had decisions to make. i needed strength. i had a weak latte and a tiny chocolate-raspberry brownie. i read the product brochures over and over. i sent out two SOS SMSs. one reply came immediately: "do it". the other, much later: "i was asleep". procrastinating, i got off the elevator at christmas foods and finally surrendered to the pink and silver-foiled wonder that is lindt's new <a href="http://www.lindt.fr/364/805/820/821.asp" target=new>petites merveilles</a>, that i had stalked twice previously while prowling the twinkly aisles. that gnawing feeling in my stomach intensified as i rode the escalator up a floor, but i couldn't tell if it was the coffee or the impending purchase. "ah! you're back," said the salesperson. "you went for a walk to think about it?" "i had some chocolate and thought about it," i said, and, "i'm a little bit stressed out right now." <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/powerlindt.jpg"> </div> and so. it sits gleaming on my desk right now, this magnificent silver beast. stone cold. i haven't really used it yet, because the battery doesn't charge. two calls to the tech support boffins, and still the battery sits at 0% full -- the optimist in me would say 100% empty -- and the time needed to fully charge fluctuates between 144 and 200 minutes, even though it's been plugged in for three days. Served on Wednesday, November 30, 2005 at 05:12 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('301105');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('301105');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/brusselspag.jpg"> </div> i bought a tray of brussels sprouts some time ago, and they'd since been sitting at the bottom of the veggie drawer in the fridge. i'd say about three weeks, as they were purchased while i was at the fish markets with my mother. of course. i remember, when they were still fresh, or at least, freshly procured, that i said to the boy, "and i'm going to roast these! with bacon!" to which he wrinkled up his nose and said, "i like them boiled." "but," i said, "roasted, with bits of bacon!" and so nothing ensued. last night i announced, "i'm going to make brussels sprouts pasta. with bacon." "you could use the leeks." "um." the bacon was also from when my mother was here. and what's this? half a tub of rocket, from when my mother was here? sure. and this pesto? three weeks old and counting? ah what the hell. it started with butter and olive oil, and then gradually, bacon fat; it could not go wrong. in my bowl it was slurpy and salty and bitter 'round the edges. -- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/torronerosa.jpg"> </div> meanwhile, in the mailroom today, look what <a href="http://www.stellou.com" target=new>stellou</a> sent me! the new <a href="http://www.randomhouse.com/pantheon/graphicnovels/ware.html" target=new>chris ware</a> book and a large bar of pink cherry nougat only slightly soft and squidgy from the perils of international post. it was just sunday that i stood in front of a bookcase at kinokuniya, gazing wistfully at said volume and then stroking it most gollum-like. and the nougat? well, it's pink! and there are cherries! and it's from <a href="http://www.carluccios.com/CarlucciosSite/pages/home/default.asp" target=new>carluccio</a>. thank you, nellie! happy birthday to me! Served on Thursday, November 24, 2005 at 10:48 a.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('241105');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('241105');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/eggontoast.jpg"> </div> here is second breakfast: a perfect boiled egg, salted and peppered, then smooshed onto buttered sourdough toast. here is a rotten egg: i was sent an unsolicited email yesterday from a publicist at a publishing house, heralding the release of an upcoming "fictionalized memoir", a "novel as a food diary" about "a young woman who equates food with love and with disastrous consequences". the publicist -- let's call her ms. matsumoto -- also offered me the chance to announce this book to my readers, or to interview the author. she also pasted into the "to" field of the email, the email addresses of about 80 other food bloggers. i sent her a reply, thanking her for spamming me and 80 other people and EXPOSING OUR EMAIL ADDRESS TO ALL AND SUNDRY, and i was surprised to receive an apology from her this morning. "i'm so very sorry! i assumed that food bloggers shared a sense of community and had asked an intern to work from a list called food porn." thing is, i consider this only a sort-of food blog. i don't think i am as committed to the <a href="http://scentofgreenbananas.blogspot.com/" target=new>eating</a> or, more precisely, the <a href="http://www.thefoodpalate.com" target=new>documenting</a> or <a href="http://scentofgreenbananas.blogspot.com/" target=new>cooking</a> as are others out there. so it's nice to feel validated by being pulled from a food porn list as a target for spam. and of course i feel terrible at letting the team down, what with my grandious lack of a sense of community and all. Served on Wednesday, November 23, 2005 at 09:46 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('231105_2');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('231105_2');</script></a> --- i finally gave in to the sandwich board outside starbucks yesterday, the bright red one that announced, "christmas drinks are here!". the larger-than-life pictures of creme brulee frappucino and mint mocha frappucino looked most enticing, but two weeks after the sign appeared i still hadn't ventured in because not being a great fan of minted whatever, and feeling somewhat dubious about the potential egginess of a creme brulee-flavoured coffee, what i really wanted was a gingerbread latte. still, i thought i should give the creme brulee a try, for the cause, and so a bit tentatively, i trundled (with pram) up to the counter and ordered one. a small one. just in case. but because i am not so good with prolonged eye contact, immedately after placing my order i cast my gaze down to the counter... and saw a laminated poster of three christmas drinks. they did have the gingerbread after all. ìoh! you have the gingerbread!î i exclaimed. ìyes,î said the countergirl. ìum. oh. iíll have that one then. i actually did want the gingerbread.î ìthat's cool. do you still want just a tall one?î [ i find only one thing ridiculous about starbucks, and it is that the small drink is called ìtallî, because apparently an espresso is counted as ìshortî, so. letís not even talk about ìgrandeî or ìventiî. ] i was impressed at the quick-thinkingness of the countergirl. there was no reason for her not to think that since i had actually really wanted the gingerbread frappucino, i would now order a bucket of it. but, no, thank you. however, since i was with child, and had to keep said child away from my whipped cream, and feed her her hot chocolate from a spoon, and sneak some reads of my 50c newspaper, and make sure she wasnít eating the red crayon there in the sunny starbucks courtyard, i was somewhat distracted, and will no doubt have to return another day and give it another go. Served on Wednesday, November 23, 2005 at 09:32 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('231105');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('231105');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/hitea.jpg"> </div> this morning, across the innernet, i asked <a href="http://www.thefoodpalate" target=new>saffron</a>, "if i got into the city early, would it be foolish to try out one of those new starbucks xmas drinks? creme brulee latte frappacino!!" to which she replied, "umm, yes it would :-I " a sterner emoticon never existed. in the end, it turned out to be very sensible advice, because after spending an hour and a half trying on underwear, there was no time for starbucks. 2.30 came, and it was time for afternoon tea! past the gleaming timber doors of the globe bar at the observatory, <a href="http://grabyourfork.blogspot.com/2005/11/high-tea-at-globe-bar-observatory.html" target=new>augustus gloop</a> was already ensconced in a large couch with a cup of milky tea. before too long, saffron was there too, with sister and friend in tow. and so. there were five girls hungry for cream. there were three scorpio birthdays (and a fourth just out by two days), three flutes of pink champange, two pots of assam tea, one pot of ceylon, and one -- a lovely silver thing -- of english breakfast. there was a three-tier stand with fruit scones up top, crustless sandwiches in the middle, and tiny sweet things down below. there was not quite enough dollopy cream and really good jam to make it through the second round of scones, and when we asked for more, the second helping was half the size of the first. there was service so unobtrusive as to be non-existent, humph, and when you pay each for dainty little mouthfuls of food, maybe you don't want to ask thrice for your tea, or wish that someone would come by and offer you more hot water for your depleted teapot. for the record, the sandwiches were: salmon and capers, ham and cheese, cucumber, and egg salad. the sweet things were: sweet, sweet almondy caramelly slice thing, chocolate friand with three nuts (the nuts were: pistachio, walnut and almond), and white chocolatey custard fruit tart (the fruits were: blueberry, raspberry, strawberry and mango). you will see from the photograph that i couldn't decide what i wanted as the last taste in my mouth. turned out it was the fruit tart. Served on Sunday, November 20, 2005 at 09:56 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('201105_2');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('201105_2');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/bananabread.jpg"> </div> oh all right. a photo. day five of banana bread, and it's still going strong. we spent the lunching hours of saturday in the old neighbourhood. it was time for maeve's twelve-month immunisations, and upon discovering that the balmain doctors would charge for the privilege, we packed maeve, half an orange and a slice of banana bread into the car and drove to the surry hills medical centre, where for children at least, it's still free. there we encountered a frontdeskman so rude and unpleasant and snatchy of medicare cards out of my hand, that we had to immediately go next door to <a href="http://www.cafemint.com.au/index.html" target=new>cafÈ mint</a> to while away our estimated one hour wait. and what a pleasant hour it was. "what's the chickpea salad like?" i asked the waiter. "well... you'd really have to like chickpeas because there are a lot of them." "but what is it like? are the chickpeas crunchy, or soft... or al dente? does it come with leaves? or other vegetables?" the waiter was very patient. "it is not like a regular salad," he said. "there are other things in it, like apricots --" "oh, ok, i'll have that!" there was also a grapefruit and almond frappÈ. the chickpea salad was all chickpeas, with torn herbs and little cubes of pumpkin, and no apricots. instead, baby figs! it was a big bowl of cool, served with hot shards of za'atar toast and fried halloumi. the baby sat calmly, mostly, and deigned to be forkfed chickpeas... until a supplier walked past with a bunch of bananas. "ba.nana." she intoned. her eyes followed the yellow trajectory. "na-naa." "naa-naaaaa." and suddenly the chef was striding out of the kitchen and offering her a banana. as simple as that. all i have to do now is train her to say "chickpea salad" and i'll be set. Served on Sunday, November 20, 2005 at 08:57 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('201105');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('201105');</script></a> --- for the last week or so, i've had three bananas going soft and ripe on the kitchen counter. not just leopard-spotted ripe, but dark, slug-like ripe. and really, i guess i started out with three, but the boy kept cutting them up for baby snacks. at one point i was sitting downstairs at the computer and heard him in the kitchen making knife-extracting, snacktime noises, and had to yell upstairs most unbecomingly, "i'm saving those bananas to cook with!" for the last week or so, blueberries have been plentiful and cheap... well, affordable at least. remember that time we went to fratelli fresh and reached our hand out for a punnet of blueberries, and then recoiled and fell over frothing when we saw the pricetag? it has not been like that this time. at the supermarket, blueberries were going for a song (.94 a punnet, which, ok, is just over twice the price of an song at the iTunes store. a song and dance then). for the last week or so, my father was in town. while my mother was here we discussed her dumpling skins, her kenwood chef, and what her old mixer was doing these days, now that she had mr kenwood. it turned out that old mr philips was languishing in a plastic bag in the back of a kitchen cupboard. "aiyah," she said, "i should have brought it for you." aiyah, i could only agree. and so a txt was sent and a box was packed, and when my father got off the plane a couple weeks later, he came bearing an electric mixer. there is a point to all these little stories, and that point is everything came together sweetly -- even with just one and a half black bananas -- in a loaf tin in a 175ƒ oven. yes, when i tipped it out, it were the most perfect banana-blueberry loaf ever. i didn't even take a picture of it, because all you have to do is imagine the most perfect banana-blueberry loaf ever, and it was that. i had some fresh hot out of the oven yesterday afternoon, and some more toasted with butter this morning, and i will have more again tomorrow breakfastime, and it will be crunchy on the outside, light and moist on the inside, fat blueberries running deep blue stains over everything. Served on Thursday, November 17, 2005 at 09:56 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('171105');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('171105');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/beehouse2.jpg"> </div> and the winner is... me! for i am the proud new owner of a lovely pink beehouse teapot. 'twas a birthday gift from the boy, following such hint-droppery as, "i know what i want for my birthday: a beehouse teapot!" and "i have seen the pink one up the street, at the shop near bray's books, called plenty. i have seen the yellow one in the same shop, except at bondi junction." for those of you following the saga of raspberry-coconut versus lemon curd, the loser was... also me, for when i rocked up to the markets on saturday, the cake stall was an empty counter between thai food and hippy vegetarian stodge. hungh. Served on Tuesday, November 15, 2005 at 01:15 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('151105');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('151105');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/icechoc.jpg"> </div> behold the bar italia iced chocolate. the surly counter boy took my order, and then turned away. when he faced front again, he held a drinking glass packed with chocolate gelato, to which he added as much cold chocolate milk as he could. and then he splashed a glug of normal milk in for good measure. it was a luscious thing, but it threw a wrench in my post-cannelloni gelato plans. out back under the tarp, two sets of parents (three, if you count me and the boy), a baby, an aunt, a cousin and someone new, somehow managed to consume most of a lot of pasta. i turned thirty-three. my mother got on a plane. and just now, in two txts, she reports from the front: "now in darwin to offload ill girl" and "stewardess fell, hit head, was unconscious, then vomited. suspected internal bleed." Served on Sunday, November 13, 2005 at 10:41 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('131105_2');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('131105_2');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/chocodesk.jpg"> </div> having recently read that <a href="http://www.roboppy.net/food/archives/000870.html" target=new>the girl who ate everything</a> eats 100g chocolate each day, and then having somehow drawn myself into a <a href="http://headforthehills.typepad.com/head_for_the_hills/2005/11/in_the_bag.html#comments" target=new>handbag reveal exercise</a>, and then having suddenly looked up and seen the carnage of confectionery on my desk, i thought i should catalogue it, because i don't normally eat like this. no, really. what we have here are: - a bag of lindt christmas chocolate almonds (2 remaining, see previous entry) - a cherry ripe wrapper (i actually only ate a third of this, after handing over the bigger half to the boy) - an unopened bar of <a href="http://www.valrhona.com/fr/menu/home-gen.php3?vlang=A" target=new>valrhona</a> dark chocolate with candied orange peel (a present from my mother) - a <a href="http://www.mrchocolate.com/" target=new>jacques torres</a> box containing: -- an unopened <a href="http://www.ritter-sport.de/en/produkte/310_produkte.htm" target=new>ritter sport</a> marzipan bar -- the last square of a ritter sport <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/roboppy/59887999/" target=new>yogurt</a> bar -- a handful of addictive <a href="http://www.tirol-choco.com/collection.html " target=new>little japanese chocolates</a> - coincidentally, a package of <a href="http://www.poofy.net/" target=new>poofy</a> badges, from robyn, who started all this. Served on Sunday, November 13, 2005 at 10:41 a.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('131105');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('131105');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/macchacupcake2.jpg"> </div> my stats tell me that 80% of the traffic to this page comes from <a href="http://www.thefoodpalate.com/" target=new>saffron</a> and <a href="http://scentofgreenbananas.blogspot.com/" target=new>santos</a>, so, well, you probably already know this story. but anyway. the ballad of the green tea lamington a little while back (scroll down if you are so inclined) a cheap and nasty supermarket raspberry lamington prompted the following discourse in my comments box: santos. 13.09.05 - 12:58 pm: hallo! so lamingtons don't have to be chocolate covered to still be called lamingtons? oh the possibilities! bowb 14.09.05 - 6:38 pm: santos: i would like to see you make a maccha lamington please, with a red bean cream filling. on your site in say, a month? santos. 15.09.05 - 12:48 pm: it's a deal :D saffron 15.09.05 - 10:04 pm: oooh can i try too? pleeeeeeeaaaaaase? bowb 16.09.05 - 9:06 am: hurrah! a bakeoff! and so in the ensuing weeks, two cakeheads got busy. me? i figured my work here was done. hey, thinking up ideas for cake is hard yakka. sadly, because the technology to send food molecules through the ether and have them regroup on the other side hasn't yet been invented (hurry up, boffins! or, oh wait, you've invented it and are keeping it a secret!! which is even worse!!!), i've only been able to look at <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/santos/55179241/" target=new>pictures</a> of the wonder that is <a href="http://scentofgreenbananas.blogspot.com/2005/10/bowbs-lamingtons.html" target=new>santos' lamingtons</a>. happily, because saffron is only a busride away on a saturday afternoon, i was the lucky and extremely pleased recipient of a cluster of <a href="http://www.thefoodpalate.com/2005/11/tea-cake-1-green-tea-lamington-cupcake.html" target=new>green tea lamington cupcakes</a>. all the components are present: light and moist maccha-tinged sponge, a glorious purple heart of <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mouthingthewords/59980485/" target=new>yam jam<a/>, whipped cream and shaved coconut dusted with maccha. an inventive and delicious interpretation! and now, alas, there are no more of these little beauties. the last one, i just ate her, and scraped the paper clean. <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/macchacupcake3.jpg"> </div> meanwheel, most of the the remainder of visits to this page are from people googling "raging yoghurt". who are you, mysterious people? Served on Wednesday, November 9, 2005 at 10:18 a.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('091105');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('091105');</script></a> --- i exited the lift on the fifth floor of myer, ostensibly to research the prices of certain books and CDs, but suddenly i was ensnared in a maze of festive food. the happy little christmas elves were setting up the christmas department: shelf after shelf of chocolate, and marzipan, and <a href="http://www.lebkuchen.nuernberg.de/englische_version/namen.html" target=new>gingerbread</a>, and stollen, and chocolate covered marzipan, and <a href="http://www.weiss-lebkuchen.de/eng/frameset/index1.php?content=../vielfalt/products.php&op=list&html=weissella&dbid=1&category=24&navi=vielfalt&unavi=vielfalt&offset=" target=new>chocolate covered gingerbread</a>, and marzipan stollen... after my head stopped spinning around and i regained the ability to walk, i noted that there were yet more shelves of condiments and fruit jellies, but i was already halfway to the counter with a bag of lindt christmas almonds: roasted almonds in nougat and milk chocolate, with cinnamon and coriander. (the nougat is a thin crunchy shell. the chocolate is warm and spicy. the almond, eh, it is an almond.) the backstory is, i bought a bag of these three years ago, actually two bags, because the first one was so amazing that i had to have another in the pantry, for later. but this was the time of the pantry moths, and when i finally opened up the bag, i found that each chocolate had become luxury accommodation to at least one burrowing pantry moth worm. gah! the horror! it was late january, so christmas chocolates were no longer available, not even in the 50% off discount bin, and in fact i would not see this christmas almond variety for two more years. so you see why i had to immediately buy some, and eat half a dozen of them while listening to CDs at the listening station. oh public headphones, how you make my ears itch! david jones food hall made me twitch; their christmas display included a handsome white tin containing a kilogram ("1'000g") of stollen, for just under , and a very large chocolate covered gingerbread pretzel (a comparative bargain at .95). those wacky germans! i really wanted the jar of fortnum&mason christmas spiced preserve, "extremely full of plums, redcurrants, strawberries and raspberries" -- which made me think that <a href="http://disney.go.com/disneychannel/playhouse/charlieandlola/" target=new>lola</a> had written the label copy -- but then i noticed the ingredients list kicked off with cane sugar. pah. perhaps i should have made do with the long-stemmed strawberries at the fruit counter ( a kilo, and it looked like a quarter of that would be stem) in the end, the number of christmas treats i came away with, apart from that bag of christmas almonds, was "zero". instead i signed a credit card receipt at a record store, for new music! that isn't yet another pearl jam bootleg! now i have discs and discs to listen to: <a href="http://eelstheband.com/main.asp" target=new>eels</a>, <a href="http://www.fiona-apple.com/ " target=new>fiona apple</a>, and in a surprising turn of events, <a href="http://www.petemurray.com/featuredInfo/home.do" target=new>pete murray</a>, because i figured out that what i actually had had against him was his chin dimple. Served on Tuesday, November 8, 2005 at 11:58 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('081105');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('081105');</script></a> --- <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/beehouseVS.jpg"> which of these adorable beehouse teapots will be mine? Served on Monday, November 7, 2005 at 10:48 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('071105_3');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('071105_3');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/raspberrycoconut.jpg"> </div> what is this ethereal thing, all nestled in white tissue? there is a stall at the balmain markets, selling small, gluten-free cakes. you may think that small, gluten-free cakes would be mean little pellets, like hockey pucks... but they are not. after standing in front of the display trying to choose between the raspberry-coconut (pictured above, so you already know who won) and the lemon curd (a sunny yellow thing topped with a swirl of meringue), the shopman helped me out. "the raspberry-coconut is very good" he said. "yes, i cannot decide between that and the lemon curd." "ah," he said. "that is very good too. but take the raspberry-coconut." "i'll come back next week for the lemon one." "yes, come back, next week is my last week here." "..." my face was a question. "and you're never coming back, ever?" "i have a baby," the shopman said, "and so i have found another job, working for someone else, less hours for the same pay. so i get to stay at home sometimes and my wife can work too." to which i nearly fell over, because goddammitt, that is the complete opposite of the life i live. i'm not bitter, o wait, yes i am. i came away from the markets with a short stack of old books, despite my resolve not to buy any more cookbooks. but one was a 1970s penguin paperback of japanese recipes, written by a european couple who had lived in japan for a few years "and spoke the language". and another was a slim hardback, also from the 70s, called "chinese dinner party" from the "international party series", offering not just a menu and recipes, but advice on "dressing up for your party" ("oriental styled clothes are fairly popular and easy to find. specialty shops and department stores often carry beautifully designed oriental dresses, jackets, slacks and fashionable slippers.") and "oriental hospitality" ("you can create a relaxed party atmosphere with a smile and a simple bow as you welcome guests to your home for a happy and wonderful time.") the raspberry-coconut cake was a layer of almondy-biscuity stuff, with a raspberry-studded cakey bit, and then a macaroony crust on top. it tasted of sweet, and i wanted it to be somehow better. i think i should have picked the lemon curd. Served on Monday, November 7, 2005 at 12:01 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('071105_2');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('071105_2');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/coupecezanne.jpg"> </div> are some cakes created better than others? is it just, four cakes good, two cakes bad (well, ok, less good)? if a dainty little cake sat next to a homely lamington cream sponge, i know which one i'd pick. but there were no lamingtons on offer at <a href="http://www.larenaissance.com.au/2.html" target=new>la renaissance patisserie francaise</a>, so friday lunchtime, after sharing a boeuf, leek and mushroom pie with the baby, and after she discovered how to suck lemonade and peach sirop though a straw, i picked out monsieur coupe cÈzanne from the display case. he was: moist, alcohol-soaked sponge cake, mousse -- chesnut mousse?, surprise chunks of marron glacÈ, cream, cream, cream, chocolate and pistachios, all sitting in a crisp, dark chocolate cup. he was dÈlicieux. but the thing is, now i also have <a href="http://www.thefoodpalate.com/2005/11/tea-cake-1-green-tea-lamington-cupcake.html" target=new>lamingtons</a>! [more to come on this matter...] Served on Monday, November 7, 2005 at 12:00 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('071105');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('071105');</script></a> --- the best excursion ever... [ well, ok, the best excursion since that time nellie and i stole the car and drove north, to ikea, for swedish meatballs and daim cake ] ...was on saturday. it started with a banh xeo and a dried longan drink, continued through the messy middle bit with the baby wiping every piece of food on the table before eating it, and ended with the unearthing of a selection of tasty treats in a vietnamese grocery along illawarra road. among them: a tray of "gourmet mushrooms" a just ripe pineapple a bottle of rose cordial a tin of jackfruit in syrup the mushrooms were shiitake, enoki, oyster and shimeji (so pleased to meet you all!). this evening they were folded through olive oil and cream, with parsley and garlic, pepper and salt -- and somehow i managed to resist eating them straight out of the mixing bowl at this stage -- before being baked en papillote to be tossed through angel hair pasta and topped with shaved parmesan. this was slurped down so quickly that i felt i had to make dessert. "would you like some pineapple?" i asked the boy. "ummmmm... ... ... no," he replied. "but what if i fried it in butter and brown sugar, and put vanilla ice cream on top?" <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/pineapplesundae.jpg"> </div> Served on Sunday, October 30, 2005 at 09:50 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('301005');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('301005');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/mangopav2.jpg"> </div> of course, the good thing about making something that requires two egg yolks (refer: gnocchi, previous entry) is that it leaves you two egg whites with which to fashion a pavlova. i once helped to make a four-egg white pav, a pav so big we ended up making it in two parts: a large meringue at the base, and then the whipped cream and fruit, and then another, smaller meringue covered in more cream and fruit, and shaved chocolate, which was a bit controversial with the purists at the table. finally assembled, it looked rather like the titanic, suitably festooned for its maiden voyage. the pav, though, never even made it through the first night. two egg whites yield a much more modest and manageable pavlova. this is the third pav i've made, and all according to <a href="http://www.stephaniealexander.com.au/mybooks.htm" target=new>stephanie</a>'s recipe. sort of. sort of, because this time 'round, i thought i'd try and get the meringue into the oven before putting the kid to sleep, and in my clock-watching, distracted state, i managed to forget all the ingredients after the sugar. !! which is exactly half the list. oh no! while waiting for the meringue to be done (done for?), i googled such questions as "what does vinegar do in a pavlova?" but my research proved inconclusive. so i asked the boy, "is there such a thing as a bad pavlova?", and his reply, "hmm... i do not think there can be a bad pavlova," spurred me on to whip the cream, fold in a dollop of yoghurt, and arrange a bloom of thinly sliced mango on top. it were pretty good. i ate the last wedge tonight while watching "<a href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/save_the_last_dance/" target=new>save the last dance</a>", which i think i like because it reminds me of being eleven and watching "fame" on tv. Served on Friday, October 28, 2005 at 11:15 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('281005');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('281005');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/gnocchi.jpg"> </div> over the weekend, i chanced upon a recipe for spinach and ricotta gnocchi. usually i like the idea of gnocchi, but i can't imagine eating more than maybe two or three before i get bored and start looking around for, um, tiramisu or something. (strangely, i have no problem sitting and eating mounds and mounds of mashed potato, even to and beyond the point of pain.) this recipe though, was more than just mashed potato. in fact, there was no potato at all. and just look at the picture in the magazine: so green and enticing! and covered in butter and cheese. so yesterday, after i stopped being distracted by cake, i went up the street and bought a kilo of spinach and a wedge of ricotta, and stood at the stove for a good part of an hour, following the recipe exactly. after i dropped the first four balls into the lightly salted boiling water, they disintegrated and looked like a bubbling swamp in the pot. hmph. the next four held together a bit more, but when i drained them and put them in a dish, they sighed into each other and became one large, soft... i don't even think you can call it gnocchi (gnocco?). each subsequent batch ended up being floured a bit more, and left to cook a bit longer after they had risen to the surface of the water, so by the end it looked less swampy-mulchy and more italian cuisine. sadly, by this time it had been rejected by the baby (and in a cruel twist i ended up making her mashed potato instead, and baked beans), and forsaken by the boy (who thought it was tasty but soft and lacking meat, and then quickly moved on to cake and ice cream), which is why this afternoon, i ate a large plate of them for lunch. they were still softer than the magazine ones look (oh, maybe the food stylist put some sort of firming agent in to stop them collapsing under the lights, yes yes, that is my excuse), but gawrsh, so yummy. Served on Wednesday, October 26, 2005 at 03:54 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('261005_2');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('261005_2');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/banachococo2.jpg"> </div> when i made the banana frosting on saturday, i read the recipe then cleverly deduced, "feh, 1/4 cup butter and 1/2 cup mashed banana -- that will surely yield me enough frosting for like, seven cupcakes. hence, i shall double the recipe." and so it came to be that on monday, i still had a sizeable tub of leftover banana frosting in my fridge. clearly, i had to make another cake. that is all. oh, and also that my mother, who only ever has two mouthfuls of cake at the most, ate the entire slice that graced her plate, and then picked off the crumbs one by one with her fork. i don't expect this will ever happen again. i just wanted to record this moment for posterity. Served on Wednesday, October 26, 2005 at 03:28 p.m. <a href="javascript:HaloScan('261005');" target="_self"><script type="text/javascript">postCount('261005');</script></a> --- <div class="photo"> <img src="http://ragingyoghurt.org/bloghurt/pics/maeve_cupcake1.jpg"> </div> i think you know that i really, really like cake. however i am not so much of a baker. my electric mixer broke down a few years ago, and it always seems easier to walk past a shop window with a cake inside, and suddenly i am in there too, buying the cake! than to sit in the kitchen for an hour or so creaming butter and sugar with a hand whisk, and even then not getting the mixture soft and fluffy enough. but in the tradition of <a href="http://www.