Date with the Night

Does squishy do it for you?  It doesn't do it for me.  I'm a crunchy girl - I like my toast crispy, my peanut butter chunky and anything fried to be verging on the charcoal.  Mmmm... charcoal.  Texture is such a massive thing to me, I almost can't eat things when the texture is off.  That's not to say that all my food is crunchy; I like to eat soft things, slurpy things... it's just squishy that I have a problem with.

Which is why my unholy love affair with the humble date loaf is so fundamentally strange.  Of course, the version that I make (the Edmonds version) has walnuts in it, so it does have that kind of contrast-y texture.  I really dig that contrast-y texture.  I've even done a bit of an experiment where I substitute about half a cup of the flour for a half cup of cocoa, but I made a mental note not to do that again, because it made it kind of dry and weird.  Not brutally unpleasant, but just not really great.

Dates and walnuts - the gin and tonic of the baking world, that's how well they go together.

So that's all the baking that I've been doing.  It's nice to have a project though, so I've been madly looking up Lego cakes for the Lad's birthday in June.  He's going to be an *ahem* significant number, as I've already mentioned, so I'm going to practice my fondant icing skills so I can be all "Man, this is super easy! I should have been a baker... or something." when it comes time to do the actual Lego cake.  Just a recommendation though, if you are a beginner cake decorator (like myself), for the love of Great Grandma's Spatula don't look up on the internet "Lego cakes", because you will be so disenheartened (is that even a word?  Whatever) by the professional efforts of professionals that you will really start to question your sanity in volunteering to make a cake in the first place.

In other news, your humble writer here has just had her 29th birthday.  The Lad made a big fuss of me, and my parents even came to town specifically to take me shoe shopping and out for lunch, which was all totally lovely.  I didn't do any baking for my birthday, because quite frankly library school is really sapping my strength when it comes to the domestic arts.  I bought myself a vinyl edition of Queens of the Stone Age's Rated X (the tenth anniversary of Rated R), and also managed to find the Distillers' self titled album and Fight Like Apes' Fight Like Apes and the Mystery of the Golden Medallion. 

Maceo is also doing good: well actually, he's a pain in the arse. I have all these scabby scratches on my hands to prove it, but I really just wanted an excuse to post this cute-ass picture of him.  This is the look he gets right before he tries to claw your face off.  He's going in for his de-manning on Tuesday, so maybe that will settle him down a bit, but I really have my doubts.  Boy is a crazypants.  Speaking of pants, I saw a good interview by Ellen DeGeneres of Tina Fey a few days ago, and have subsequently ordered her book, Bossypants.  Dunno if it will be any good, but the interview was really funny (though Ellen did make it patently obvious she'd never done improv before... yikes), and they're both really charming women.  Though Lord knows when I'll get time to read it, because it's taken me about three weeks to get half way through the first trade book of Fables: Who Killed Rose Red?  Probably doesn't help that I'm reading about three other books at the same time though. 

Beautiful Thing

It's just a beautiful, crazy old world we live in, isn't it?  Yes, don't worry, I haven't gone completely off my rocker, I know it's dangerous, ugly and uncertain too, but it's times like these that you can't help looking around at your fellow humans and thinking, "You know, you guys are alright".

Perhaps I'm just writing this in a flood of good feeling - I finally heard from my friend in Christchurch that she and her husband (and even their cat!) are all okay.  Ma had already contacted me about the family I have living down there, and so everyone is present and accounted for.  I only have an email address for this particular friend, and of course, with the power situation, email and stuff like that is mostly out of the question.  But I was holding out hope that today would be the day I'd hear from her, and lo-and-behold, there was an email in the old inbox when I got up this morning to do this post.

There are still lots of people in Christchurch who are not alright though, so here are some things that Wellingtonians (and people who live elsewhere) can do:

Bake on Sunday: You heard right!  There's going to be a massive bakesale on Monday the 28th of February in Civic Square in Wellington.  I don't know who organised it, but The Great Sunday Bake Off is a freakin' awesome idea.  They've had so much interest that any extra goodies that can't be transported to Christchurch by their team will be sold from 10 - 2pm.  Follow the earlier link for more details. 

Donate to the Red Cross: Easy as, you can text a donation, slap it on the credit card, whatever the amount.  There is lots of information on their website, so follow that link for more of it. 

Drink Coffee, Eat Cake:  Seems a bit of a weird option, right?  But the glorious Caffe L'affare in College Street (opposite Moore Wilson in the central city) is donating all their proceeds on Sunday the 27th (which is tomorrow) to helping out the people of Christchurch.

Of course, there are a few... well, dickheads is really too kind a word for them, but you know where I'm going with that, who are trying to make a buck out of this horrible event.  Please, please, when you're making an online donation or whatever: make sure that whatever you're donating too is for real.  There have been reports of scams which say that they're charities wanting to help out the people of Christchurch, when really, they're just wads of dog poo wanting to help themselves.  So please be careful about that.

Moving on from that bring down, there are still lots of other ways to help.  TradeMe (for overseas readers, it's like a mini-version of eBay, which is often a pain for New Zealanders to use because of the shipping) has masses of ways you can help, things like volunteering labour, if you have a spare room that you can have someone stay with you, volunteering transport.  There are also links to resources like Civil Defence, the Red Cross, the People Finder and the Salvation Army. 

Phew! So three posts in one week!  My typing fingers are near worn out... hope that where-ever you are, that you're safe and happy and enjoying life.  Because that is the most beautiful thing.

Jumbo Blimp Jumbo

Ugh.  Mondays.  Plus, today really should be a public holiday.  It really should, and I'm not just saying that 'cause I fancy a holiday.  Waitangi Day (which is kind of like Noo Ziland's national day, fraught as it tends to be with racial tensions and politiking) was on Sunday, so happy birthday to my buddy Stephanie and to Bob Marley also.  Anyway, we're currently in a bit of a pickle, because this is the second year that some of our public holidays will fall on weekends.  We only get eleven public holidays here anyway, so we guard them preciously.  Our Prime Mininster reckons he's going to "think" about Monday-ising them, not that it's just his decision, and he should really know what all the workers of New Zealand want him to do.  If he doesn't he's an even bigger moron than I thought. 

But I digress.  Today did have it's uplifting elements.  And that was that we were having a shared morning tea at work (you'll be beginning to think that all us toilers at the information coalface ever do is eat morning tea) to welcome back a returning staff member.   Honestly, I did eclairs because they were the easiest think that I could think of to do.  Choux pastry?  Simple.  Seriously, the hardest thing about making them is figuring out how much 'six tablespoons of butter' is in grams... some stupid woman (me) wrote that measurement into her recipe book, and I'm stuck with it now.



Parle vous Francais, mon petit dessert?

Beast of the Yeast

I don't feature enough pizza on this blog.  Don't you think?  As far as I'm concerned, pizza is the Perfect Food.  I mean, it's bread, with anything you want on it.  How could that not be perfect?  Okay, so sandwiches are bread with anything you want on it, but I guess the sandwich is a good representation of the phrase 'familiarity breeds contempt'. 

Good Egg, Bad Egg.

Welcome to 2011!  Hopefully everyone managed to survive the crazy-ass Christmas and New Year season (and the random weather) intact... Noo Ziland has had a seriously nuts storm pass up the country just after Christmas, and heaps of people got cut off from where they were going because of the flooded roads and massive winds... even to a wind veteran like myself, gusts of 160 kilometers per hour is just a tad freakish.

Luckily, the Lad and I were out of town for Christmas, up north in Hamilton where the weather is sunny and the table is laden.  We stayed with my parents, which was lovely, though I have to say that I probably gained about a hundred pounds, because mum is a fantastic cook.  We drove up, spending a night in Rotorua (awesome geo-thermal action, but stinky like a bad egg-fart.  Nice people though) on the way up the country.  On the way up, I had been Ms. Ultra-prepared, and made a picnic, which we promptly devoured, and then we needed a sweet treat.  This is that sweet treat.

Cussssttaaaard.   *throws head back and drooooools*

There is a little town on State Highway 1 (sort of at the junction between SH1 and SH3), called Bulls.  At Bulls, there is a cafe called the Mothered Goose.  I'm not really into custard square, but I made an exception for this puppy.  So if you're ever in the neighbourhood, boy howdy, pop in and try it, because you won't regret it.  Flakey pastry, still crunchy and delicious, and the most vanillary custard I ever tasted.  I ended up eating most of the custard out of the thing on it's own, but thank goodness I had already eaten lunch, because otherwise I'd be even plumper around the middle than I am now.

Anyway, since this post might turn into 'first in a series' kind of action, I'm going to leave you imagining the fragrant vanilla-eggy-creamy waft of this custardy delight, while I go put my laundry out.  Peace, y'all.

Mean Little Cookie

I was overcome last week.  You know when you get an idea, and it just sort of burbles around in your head and you practically have to act on the idea in self-defence, just to make it go away?  Well, my brain conjured up an mental image of me, eating a cookie with Fat Ass emblazoned on it.  Not that I think my ass is fat or anything, certainly not.  But before this degenerates into a post about my buttock region, here's a picture:

[Eating] on the Sidewalk, part 1: Mmmm... pie (and roller derby).

Everybody loves a good pie.  Of course, everyone has different interpretations on the definition of 'good pie', but I have to say that my standards are cray-zay high when it comes to pie.  I'm a pie-snob!  I confess!

Sometimes, you can get a really bitchin' top crust, then a gorgeous filling... which is all totally ruined by soggy under-crust.  Or you get amazing crust action, and then fundamentally gross filling.  Or the whole thing is just a big 'meh' - which is the worst, I reckon... don't get me wrong, I'm all about the classics, but I'd rather have pie be the highlight of my day than just something to fill my belly.

Now this, this is good pie:

Have to say that I was a tad dubious when I saw the Lad coming back from the counter at Ernesto's with a big wodge of this pie, which is berry and apple (as I'm sure you were able to guess from the photo...  hope my photography isn't that bad).  It was technically a pie to share, but I bet you can guess who was the one that ended up cramming it into her gob as fast as she could go, washed down with gallons of wicked good soy latte.  It always gives me a private chuckle to know that Ernesto's is run by the same people that own Fidel's and Havana coffee (some of the best coffee money can buy, in my humble opinion... seriously, it is a humble opinion, I know nothing about coffee, except what I like)... and both the cafe's are on Cuba Street.  Doesn't take much to tickle my funny bone, obviously.

But back to the pie... Pie should really be the kind of food which is equally good fresh out of the oven as it is fridg-y cold.  Don't know about this one fresh out of the oven, but it was excellent cold - and it speaks to the confidence that this cafe has in this pie that they didn't feel the need to give you a big splattering of yoghurt or cream, or any other decoration at all (oh, hang on, they did give us yoghurt, but we didn't need it, and I ate it afterwards on it's own), other than a wee dusting of icing sugar.  Mmm.

So that concludes the first part of Eating on the Sidewalk - I'm gonna try and make this kind of regular-ish, 'cause I like to give props to cafe's and stuff that do things right.  If any of y'all have got any places you think would be good to try, let me know, 'kay?

In other news, the final derby round was not last weekend, but the weekend before.  Unlike last years season, Brutal Pageant were pummelling Smash Malice 2 bouts down - and even though Malice put up a brave fight, the Pageant girls were just too good.  Didn't help that Tuff Bikkies went out at half time either.  The Richter City girls are putting on an exhibition match against Pirate City in December, on the 11th - you can get tix from Under the Radar , and I totally recommend that you do - there were about two thousand people at the last bout (yay Wellington! Man, I love this city!).  

Whoa.

Frickin' heck, I've got so many plans at the moment, I'm like... a plan monster, or something.  It's the first proper-nice day of the spring season today, and with remarkable good planning, I'm not at work... nice to be doing something right.  Mum and Dad are down in Wellington tomorrow, so it will be sweet to see them (and sweet to have all the frickin' cleaning out of the way... *sigh* I know they don't care, but I do it anyway), and we're going to the World of Wearable Arts show on Sunday, which I'm so looking forward to it's not even funny.  Plus I'm trying to write my letter for library school next year, which is into something like it's eighth draft... and so I'm ignoring it for a little while, just to get my mojo back on it.

Oh yeah, the baby shower!  Damn, it was so good, I am King Organised, nothing was a total failure (read that as: nothing failed so badly that I couldn't fix it), the new Mama was completely surprised (muahaha), and I've had several really nice emails from guests saying how much they enjoyed themselves... sweet!  It was actually surprising easy, in the end of it - I think that the most stressful bit was having a bunch of people that I didn't really know very well coming over to my house.  You just never know what you'll be inviting through the front door.  Still, we didn't have any chronic undressers or kleptomaniacs (yes, I have been rereading 'Choke' by Chuck Palahniuk - how did you guess?)  All the baking was an unmitigated success too - no reports of food poisoning, which is just fab.

I think that I'm most proud of my pistachio macaroons, because I'd never made them before, and I'm now cautiously optimistic that I've conquered my brain-block against egg white baking... but I'm gonna make a sponge or a pav or something before I get too excited on that front.  They were so good - I actually liked them better without the ganache in the middle, but that's just because I'm not really a sweet tooth kind of lady.  But there were also cupcakes (der, of course there were, I'm kind of bored of baking them to be honest, but now it's getting to be something that people expect), savoury junk (wee tomato and olive tart things, thyme and gruyere gougeres, just to be fancy), and a fantastic chocolate and raspberry cake that the fine lady helping me organise made... it was so awesome.  *drool*

Who Loves the Devil?

Yes! Yes! A cake!  It's only the second cake I've ever featured on this blog, and that's because I usually can't be arsed hauling a knife around to wherever I'm going to be caking-it-up.  But here I was, going to a most civilised dinner party, and thought, what cake takes almost no effort, I have all the ingredients for, and is almost universally loved?

The answer, whispered on a sweetly sulphuric stream, was Devil's Food Cake.

I'd actually never made one of these puppies before.  And there is actually a darn good reason for that - I'm craptastic at making ganache.  It's probably a matter of practice, but also probably the fact that yours truly might be a tad overconfident with her skills.  I mean, on paper, how hard could it be?  It's essentially adding either cream or water to melted chocolate to make a thick, choco-tastic frosting. Simple, right?  Ha!  That's just what the French want you to think.  My ganache, while sufficiently delicious, was matte and stiff, not shiny and limber as it's supposed to be.  As it always is.  You'd think that by now, I'd be aware of my limitations and either practice making ganache when it's not a make or break occasion (it never really is, usually people are impressed that you didn't just buy something, but still.  Competitive streak and all that), but no!  Where is the fun in that?

Damn, it was good.  I got the recipe from David Lebovitz , made no adjustments or re-doings, just pure, unadulterated Lebovitz.  I've got to stop writing about this cake now, I'm getting drool all over the keyboard.  Lucky I've got a few vegetarian cooking books out of the library, 'cause Mama's gonna need to lose a few kilos after her date with the Devil.

Time to Say Goodbye

Oh, muffins... where have you been all my life?  I'm on a real muffin kick at the moment, if I'd known how flamin' simple they are, I'd have started makin' the darn things sooner.  Well, maybe.  We all know that I'm a woman who just loves to make life hard for herself.  But still.  The sentiment is there.

So the puppies that I've just made are cream cheese, smoked salmon and chive mini-muffins.  How hoity-toity can you get?  Yes, they are pretty ritzy, but honestly, someone who had mislaid some of their mental picnic could make these without much bother.  There are only two pitfalls with these muffins - they are a tad on the expensive side to make (though if you get the smoked salmon pieces, you know, the ripped up shready stuff, it's not too bad), and they are almost irresistable; but resist!  I implore you!  Take it from one who knows, all you will end up with is a burnt roof-of-the-mouth and a broken heart.  Well, maybe not that last one.

Um, in other news, Mark Lanegan is in town tonight, which I totally wish that I could go to, but being the Nana that I am, one thing per night is about my limit.  The muffins are coming with me to a farewell shindig for a work buddy of mine tonight.  In order to not cause too much kerfuffle for people, its one of those 'clear out your booze cabinet' type affairs - everyone brings the mysterious bottles that lurk in the back of the cabinet with a centimeter or so of liquid at the bottom and we make them into glorious cocktails.  At least, that is the idea.  Getting back to the original topic, if you don't know who Mark Lanegan is, you need to go to the Library (or the indie record store, or itunes if you must) and get the Screaming Trees album Dust.  It is an amazing album, and I'm sure that you'll love it.  What am I saying, I don't know if you'll love it, but it's always good to listen to some new shit once in a while.

Sur Une Nappe De Restaurant

Hooray!  My Jacques Dutronc CD arrived today, so I've been immersing myself in loveliness.  Speaking of loveliness...

Look at that beastie!  Even with the crapshack photoshop job that I've done on the background, doesn't it still look almost unholy in it's awesomeness!?  And your saliva glands are sending mad signals right now to your brain; 'Cake! Cake! Cake!' they say... and who would you be to deny them?

Downward Spiral

I don't think they have a scale for laziness, but I feel like I should be pretty high up there if they ever do get around to making one. For instance, I keep getting the urge to bake for the blog, and then baking and not taking any pictures of the darn things that I make. Perhaps it's got something to do with the fact that my camera is being dopey at the moment... or it could just be the myriad other things that I have to do.  Such as holding our frisky sofa down...

Anyway, I remembered an awesome thing that I think that I read in one of Nigella Lawson's books once upon a time, which was lucky for me because I was fresh out of ideas for a shared morning tea that we were having at my work.  I've gone right off the cupcake thing, since that's what everyone expects from me now, and as awesome as they are to make, they're always too sweet for me.  In my experience, people get suspicious if you don't eat your own baking.

Habit Forming

So I'm trying to get into the habit of making muffins on a Sunday afternoon. My first attempt was blueberry, and let me tell you... not as successful as I would have liked.  Not, y'know, bad or anything, just not as light and gorgeous as they should be.  I really don't know if it was just the recipe I was following, possibly the fact that I didn't use buttermilk (like half the internet told me I should... in fact, do you know how hard it is to find a muffin recipe that doesn't have buttermilk in it?  I do, and trust me, it's hard).  This recipe wasn't a buttermilk recipe, but... I don't know, there was something about those blueberry muffins that didn't grab me by the tastebuds and whirl me around the room in a daze of wonderful.

Am I expecting too much from these muffins?  Whatever gives you that idea?