I have been thinking for a long time wondering when the next blog post will come out of me. After a weird time of thinking about what I like and what I dont like in life generally, about who and I am who I dont want to be, (I think mostly triggered by having a nice boyfriend who is super cool and a major dickhead at the same time just like me – you know so I can seriously CHILL OUT about a lot of thing) lots of things stopped (I deleted everything of mine from the lameatnames.com blog for example but Valeria keeps spreading “the word” there) and I just started collecting cook books and talking at length channeling my cat.
Seriously mates, I can see how those crazy cat ladies end up! It is just too easy. There I will be buried under a mountain of bubble wrap from eBay and etsy stinking of piss, Hobart walking all over me and my boyfriend saying “Dont worry dear” and I poo myself yet again.
But before I get to that level, this space in between I think is called still “growing up” or maybe when you are a grown up it is called “maturing”.
Maybe I was a thick kid but I thought you got to a certain age and that was it. You are a grown up. You have finished growing up. But my experience to date is for that not to be the case. In 18 months when I turn 40, will I have stopped all this “teen angst”? No I dont think so. I hope that I dont turn into one of those smug pricks who are in their 40’s writing for a music paper pretending like teen angst is a thing to laugh at though. Cause all those smug pricks who dress like they are teenagers anyway only have one thing on their side real teenagers dont – and that is perspective through having lived more years. Teen angst still sucks. That is why you see so many pictures of 40 somethings on dating websites taken by themselves on their mobile phone in their little bedrooms. Same thing.
What was I saying?
Actually I wasnt saying it yet but I wanted to get round to cooking. Other than my cat and my boyfriend, this is the thing I think about the most. If I didnt have a job, I would have dinner parties every night and cook and cook all day. The Booyah Cook could make a re-appearance. However I am a bit of quandry – if I want to start writing the cooking on the blog, I really dont want people to accidently end up on a picture of my knickers. Or maybe it doesnt matter.
Health report – Hobart puked over a shitty pair of jeans that Ant was trying to throw in the bin but I wanted to keep for painting. I have an itchy thing behind my ear. Are the two related? I doubt it.
All picture were taken by guest Erika. Why didn’t we take more picture of food? Hobart was not impressed although she was sick on the floor the other morning so I gave her a hand full of rocket which she munched through and looked a lot perkier.
THE VEGAN MENU – everything made from scratch so I could be 2000% sure there was no secret lard or weird stuff
Beetroot Pickle with orange & soy dressing
Prawn and lime “har gau” <- These were for me and also a 50/50 in case the mushroom ones exploded.
Oyster mushroom “har gau”
Home made Chinese chilli sauce
Red rice and quinoa salad with pistacho nuts and orange
Cucumber salad with poppyseed and chilli
Edamame bean and radish salad
Roast pumpkin and basil
A couple of tahini sauces. One was nice and the other was like peanut butter.
Something Penguin from Brew Dog [a special limited edition beer thing of Anthonys]
Prosecco & Aperol
Loublie Rose [YUM!]
Sorbet vodka and prosecco
And, Erika made all baked goods – muffins and a cobbler. Which I also ate for breakfast the next day.
Amuse Bouche and Verrine – to things you dont see that much of here on the menu but common in France. As common as horrible graphic design in French cook books. Where as we have to put up with Jamie Olivers mug doing drooly smug grins all over the shop.
Anyway I am having a dinner party next week and without trekking to fucking nowheresville, where can I get yellow beetroot from. Please keep in mind I live in N19 and am allergic to pikey East London. Oh yeah sorry, as if they would have anything like that there.
Here is a good idea for you – macerate [soak in something] nectarines in amaretto. BOOYAH. Best dessert ever.
Oh and if you have a good cocktail idea, please let me know.
And any really fancy recipes that HAPPEN to be vegan. Like Olia’s potatoes with capers.
Well folks, here they are! The famous HANSBURGER cakes that I made for Hans for his 50th birthday party last weekend. I have started doing Afternoon Tea Catering. There is a half started website here. The Hansburger is Genoise sponge sandwiched together with Creme Anglaise and butter icing. 40 of them! Hardcore bake athon. But it was so worth it at Hans party with some pink champagne in my hand seeing every one not expecting the creme anglaise explosion. Anthony helped me stick them together when I got to the creme anglaise stage. He was more professional than me. Then Dora help by standing in the kitchen and scoffed all the leftovers. She said “See me. I am an African woman. We chop like this with bread in the drink.”
Then, I COULDNT BELIEVE IT. On the wall in Han’s flat was the vintage cutout of the Lord’s prayer I had been bidding on in eBay [not this one pictured.] So I quizzed Jean Marc and we had been bidding against each other for the piece. I was gutted. I told him how unhappy I was and he said disparigingly “Don’t you know about eBay Sniper? You never win anything by chance and more.” Major burn. But then he fished behind some drawers and pulled out the one in the picture and gave it to me! THANK YOU JEAN MARC. So now it is in my bedroom and I can protect myself from thousands of psychic vampires and slug ghosts.
And fastforward up to today. I bought a belt of Etsy to wear as a necklace [what is wrong with me], have had a migraine for 4 days now and just thought “fuck it” and made some popcorn and cracked open the gin.
In the olden days, before people wrote on live journal and chose their mood and put what music they were listening to, what did people do?
Made mix tapes
Started a band Wrote really shit prose [maybe the same as a live journal entry]
Dyed their hair
Went to their friends house
Rode a horse [in the really olden days]
Silk screen printing their own record sleeve or t-shirt
I was thinking of incorporating this video into a motivational speech about reaching a turnover of £1,000,000 at work today – using the bookbox as a metaphor for positive vibes and salesmanship and anything is possible positivity.
How do you think I will go?
And I know that The Lonely Island are a comedy act, I actually dont think this song is a joke. Maybe an exageration of “reality” but then that is what pop music is for right?
I ate half a chicken yesterday with the Cardinal, came home and slept from 4pm all the way through til 7am today. A solid effort. I should add what tipped me over the edge were the panko crumbed croquettes of potato and black pudding.
Someone has ordered 30 of my hamburger cakes for their 50th birthday party this weekend. I will be “flipping patties” for a long while.
Anthony and I are going to Avignon in July for a holiday. As part of restaurant research, Cards father turned up a strong list of restaurant contenders. One of them even had a recipie section. So the other night we made the Courgette and Tomato thing. Which is basically garlic & thyme sprinkled in the bottom of a bakeware dish. Then layers of peeledand deseeded tomatos cut into quarters and slices of courgette a bit like lasagne with oil pepper and salt baked slowing for at least 3 hours at 120 degrees centigrade. Was long and boring but tasted yummy. Was secretly jealous when Anthony said he had it cold tonight after being in the fridge for a day and a half. I bet it was even better!