i've got strength and endurance, so i count my blessings

So. After Tuesday's horrific earthquake in Christchurch, from which the sad news continues to eclipse any good, I couldn't consider much of anything, let alone blogging. Which is fine.

Tim and I and my whole family are so lucky. Removed physically from the horror, although not emotionally. My cousin and his partner down in Christchurch were fine, despite being in the city centre at the time, and we were able to hear this news pretty quickly. Any other friends and family we had down there have been accounted for. But the number of fatalities climb with sorrowful speed. We had two people staying in our lounge last night, friends of our flatmate's who were in Christchurch when it happened. Their stories were a further reminder to be thankful for what I've got.

Thankful or not (and it's not proper gratitude, how can you be truly thankful that something awful happened to someone else and not you?) I've been changed by this earthquake. Wellington, where I live, is supposed to be earthquake central, not Christchurch. I used to be such a daydreamer, floating down the street in my own world. Now I dart from block to block, each shop front a potential missile that I pass like a small victory. I take my phone everywhere. I feel nervous when Tim and I go our separate ways for work in the morning. I lie awake, mentally assessing what might fall on me in the night, the useless-in-an-earthquake concrete walls staring back at me, every twitch of my muscles or distant slamming door feeling like the opening bars of an earthquake's crescendo. One good thing about staying up so late to listen to the news and refresh Twitter is that my eyes shut that much faster when I do get to bed.

Worth pointing out here that this specific fear of earthquakes and feeling like every creak of a building is nature getting angry isn't anything new. It's been this way ever since a well-intentioned but excessively heavy school assignment on disasters when I was about 10. Just now it's a lot more...near.

As with when I was 10, I try to comfort myself with the thought that my grandma Zelda, who died when she was about 75 (would've been so much longer if emphysema hadn't set in) once told me that she'd never once been in an earthquake. She might've been lying to an overly nervous kid (that said, she did live in Tuakau, not known for its tremors.) But then and still now, I tell myself like a mantra that if Grandma could be that age and never be in an earthquake, then maybe I could be that person too. Then there's practical things to help soothe the mind too: we refreshed our bottled water supply, located a torch, that kind of thing.

Of course there's food. On Tuesday night I came home and made us a risotto with extra butter and frozen peas, remembering Nigella's philosophy of the mindless stirring being good for the soul. It wasn't half bad, just focussing on that wooden spoon spiralling through the slowly expanding grains of rice. We ate it out of bowls on the couch and listened to Radio New Zealand till well after midnight.

With some renewed sense of purpose, I baked some stuff for the bring-and-buy sale happening at Grow From Here up the road. In a sort-of humorous twist, the friends from Christchurch who I mentioned earlier were asleep on our lounge floor while I was trying to quietly, quietly ice a cake and wrap up cookies without waking them. At Grow From Here we met up with another local food blogger, Mika of Millie Mirepoix. I'd made Chocolate Guinness Cake, gluten-free peanut butter cookies, and a couple of fruit tea loaves. Mika had made lemon-iced gingerbread (as in the dense sticky cake, not the biscuit), lemon shortbread, and mini cinnamon-raisin-walnut pinwheels. Other people had bought clothes, shoes, a stack of (mostly amusement-causing, MOR-tastic) vinyl thanks to Real Groovy, homemade candles, jigsaws, even a TV. I'm glad Tim and I were there - it felt extremely self-helpful to do something positive for others. There were so many nice people that came and bought things, often giving extremely generous donations, and it was so cool to hang with Mika and with Kaye who is one of the people who runs Grow From Here. FYI if you're near Wellington and longing for some plant-life, totally go see Kaye at Grow From Here, she's lovely and full of good advice and their range of fruit and vegetable plants is amazing. Massive respect to them for getting this organised.

With our powers combined, about $200 was raised by the afternoon. All going to Christchurch. I went back and visited again this afternoon and at that point $700 had been raised. Kaye said that about five minutes after Tim, myself and Mika left, someone turned up asking if they could volunteer. For all the the universe gets it really twisted sometimes, it also provides. I'm going to be dropping some more baking off tomorrow morning and while I can't hang around, please come to the top of Cuba Street if you can - just a donation of any kind and you can take what you like. And there's plenty of deliciousness for the taking.

Before Tuesday, this blog post was going to be a salute to vegetables, but not only do I not have the energy to talk about them in detail, I have even less energy to write recipes out. But in the interest of not being entirely lazy and self-pitying...

...if you roast a halved eggplant, a few good halved tomatoes, and a halved red onion and some garlic cloves with some salt and olive oil, then simmer them (as is) with stock or water, then peel the garlic cloves and puree everything (carefully...maybe fish out the vegetables and puree them then pour them back into the stock in the pan) with some chilli then you'll have yourself a delicious, thick and darkly savoury soup. Vegan too. I got this recipe from the latest issue of Cuisine magazine.

And if you slice a cucumber into sticks, mix it with some sliced red onion (sit the onion in water for a while to make it less tongue-harsh) mint leaves, finely chopped roast peanuts and some crisply fried garlic, and then pour over a dressing of white vinegar, fish sauce, a little sugar and sliced red chilli (I just used a spoon of sambal oelek as that's what I had) then you have Vatcharin Bhumichtr's gorgeously contradictorial Yoam Droksok, a Cambodian salad which heats and cools on impact and is strangely addictive.

So the baking has helped some. We went to see friends in Ngaio for book group on Wedneday night and played with/coveted deeply their kitten and ate their mini lemon meringue pies and laughed so much, which also helped. Every time I pause from any activity though, my mind goes immediately to Christchurch. Which I guess is just fine. It's not over for them just because a little time has passed. It's probably never going to be 'over' in fact, just...different.

I'm sure you've seen this information in a million other places but in the interest of being part of the solution:

• Red Cross seems to be one of the most reputable ways to donate. Anything helps, but if you haven't got anything to give, then maybe pass the link on through your networks.

• If you're on Vodafone (in New Zealand) you can txt Quake to 333 or 555 which will send $3 or $5 respectively to the Red Cross. Telecom users txt 4419 - a simple way of doing the above option.

• MusicHype has an enormous 'mixtape' where you can download roughly a metric ton of music for a donation which goes to Red Cross. Very cool idea, and it's also awesome that they got it set up so quickly. Artists include Salmonella Dub, Mel Parsons, King Kapisi, 1995, DJ Sticky Fingas and literally quite a few more. Click here for more info.

Finally: as a blogger it has been so heart-swellingingly good to know that all the Christchurch people whose blogs I read and who I follow on Twitter are more or less okay.

Stay safe.

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Title via: Nas and Damian Marley's Count Your Blessings from Distant Relatives. It feels like ages ago since anything, let alone when I saw them live earlier this month, but their lyrics feel as important now as they did then.

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Music lately:

Well...I've spent a good long time listening to what I consider Mariah Carey's Early 90s Trifecta of Emphatic Reliability: Anytime You Need A Friend, I'll Be There, and Hero. In times of high stress comes both comfort food and comfort listening. And all those songs with the simple theme of "I'll be there", just listen to these songs enough and you do get some sense that yeah, you can get through this. Temporary it may be, but it does help. It might help more if you have songs of some kind of equivalence to this. Maybe listening to Mariah Carey really, really wouldn't help some of you right now.

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Next time: Each day as it comes so... Who knows. Promise I'll write the recipes out proper though.

Visions of Sugarplums...

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It's this time of year -though not exclusively of course - that my thoughts turn to baking, and I have this incredibly strong desire to bake something sugary and smear it thickly with buttercream, preferably tinged mint green or pink, even though I don't even like pink that much...

I mean I do feel like this on a fairly regular basis, but rightaboutnow my proclivity is particularly insistent. What time of year is it exactly? Essay time. And it'll happen again in the midway point of next semester. I have a sqillion lengthy essays to complete in rapid succession, plus a 6-part photo assignment and a 15% test on Photoshop (which is still completely over my head). Instead of being able to concentrate on "The Mediated Nation" and "The Public Sphere" and so on, I keep thinking about baking. With the feijoa cake and Anzac biscuits but a distant memory now, (I know, it was three days ago, aren't I petulant!) it feels like forever since I whipped up a fluffy batch of cupcakes or made a layered sponge, or drizzled white chocolate over something. Gahh!

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Above: It's lucky I enjoy cooking dinner so much. Tim and I are trying to cut back on our spending, another reason I can't bake too much, though it's difficult when food is my main vice and it grows ever more expensive by the day. I mean, I always cook with economy in mind, but I like the finer things in life as far as food is concerned, too. Although they don't soothe my desire for buttercream, lentils are definitely pleasing to the soul - and cheap.

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There aren't many foods left that are this delightfully inexpensive. I love filling my snaplock bag to the brim with red lentils at the bulk food section of the supermarket, only to have the weighing machine eject a price sticker that says something like $0.86.

Because we ate so much junk over the last couple of days - I ate a large bag of twisties on the train to Levin, had KFC for dinner while there (and mighty fine it was), and fish and chips for Friday night's dinner - I was pretty desperate for the presence of some vitamins and minerals at our next possible meal. So on Saturday night I made a lentil curry, which is basically my not-quite-fully-formed lentil soup recipe but with less water. Thick with tomatoes, spicy with cumin, cinnamon, cardamom, garlic, and of course, lentils, I'm not sure how authentic it was (notice I didn't call it dhal) but as Nigella says, it was "authentically good." I'm afraid that even though I covered it hopefully in coriander, the photo of the finished product was so awful that I elected not to show it here. Much as I love them, cooked lentils aren't terribly photogenic and it would take greater skillz than mine to make them so...

Above: The very sight of this dish practically erased any remnant traces of KFC from my system with its chlorophyll-green symphony of...okay I'm getting carried away, but it is healthy and vibrant looking, and if healthy food looks good then that's half the hard work done. Of course, it has to taste fabulous, which this certainly does. I came by this recipe via Healthy Salads From Southeast Asia by Vatcharin Bhumichitr, a book I love, every time I read it I want to make something. And, it was only $11 from Borders on a table with all those other authorless, soulless, step-by-step cookbooks! Kapow!

Green Salad with Coconut and Mint Dressing

100g mange tout, topped, tailed, halved

100g French beans, trimmed and halved

1 small cucumber, halved lengthwise, deseeded, and diced

100g Chinese cabbage, roughly shredded

100g broccoli, cut into small florets.

I should point out here that what I used was a mixture of frozen beans, frozen peas, cucumber, broccoli and regular cabbage. Still kosher, I'd like to think.

Bring a pan of water to the boil and one by one blanch each vegetable - yes, even the cucumber - for about 4 minutes, refreshing in cold water and draining well. Place vegetables in a large bowl and set aside.

For the dressing: Heat 2 T vegetable oil in a pan and fry 1 clove of garlic, crushed, until golden brown. Add 2 small green chillies, finely chopped, 2 t sugar, 3 T coconut milk, 1 T fish sauce, and a few tablespoons of water, and stir well. Remove from the heat and stir in 2 T lime juice and 1 T finely chopped mint. Pour this over the vegetables and stir well. Delish.

I should also point out that because neither Tim nor I are 'ard enough, I reduced the chilli component considerably. Feel free to do so yourself.

Above: I finally made my first recipe from my new Jill Dupleix book, Lighten Up, in the form of her Cauliflower and Barley Risotto. Barley, like lentils, is stupidly cheap, very good for you, and not terribly sexy. However according to Nigella in How To Eat, a risotto made with barley is called an orzotto, and I have to say, giving it an Italian name makes it much more alluring. The recipe was straightforward enough - sauteed onions, carrots, and cauliflower stems, then barley, white wine, cauliflower, stock...simmer...serve. I roasted the cauliflower itself first, because I am pathologically incapable of walking past a floret without shoving it in the oven. I think should I make this again - and I will, it was delicious - I'll stick with this method.

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Above: Surprisingly creamy and delicious, and very 'comfort food' in nature. I didn't have any walnuts, as the recipe specified, so I scattered over pumpkin seeds and flaked almonds instead.

We really cannot afford to spend too much on food, but frankly we don't have any space either. If our kitchen is practically a cupboard in its own right, can you imagine the size of the cupboards within said kitchen? Luckily lentils tend to have a high turnover so I don't worry about buying them in large amounts...

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So, though I long to take a week off to bake lamingtons or purple cupcakes or who knows what, I have to force my sluggish brain to stay focused on the Venture Tripartite and Banal Nationalism. Don't get me wrong, I love university, and learning, and the Venture Tripartite truly are an incredibly charming lot, but I'd like to meet the person who could muster enthusiasm for writing essays...

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PS - not that I'm garnering for praise here - ah heck, I always am to be honest- but I finally did something about my dreary header and uploaded a photo I took in our kitchen and tinkered about with on Picassa. You like?

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PSS - Tomorrow marks 12 years since Rent first moved to Broadway at the Nederlander theatre. If this is significant to anyone here other than me, I'd love to know, and if it's not...did you know that it won a Pulitzer Prize? Thank you, Jonathan Larson...

Lentil As Anything

Turns out that the Guinness cake is "the nicest cake in the world" according to Paul. He's not wrong. Like a good casserole, fine cheese, or Helen Mirren, it just gets better with age. On Tuesday I ate three pieces of the damn thing. Small pieces (evening things up, you know) but nonetheless: three. So there have been lentils aplenty to atone.

But you don't need me to tell you that the oft-maligned, unsexy lentil is actually seriously awesome. Or do you?

Above: This was Sunday night's dinner. I must admit that I ate a whole ton of jellybeans that were supposed to be for Tim -should his blood sugar go low- while he was at work. I figured the only way to undo this would to make lentil soup. Now, I don't have a hard and fast recipe for this, as I am still experimenting in the hopes of finding the perfect prototype. I think this could be close. I sauteed two onions, and added lots of garlic, some ginger, cinnamon, cumin, coriander, and turmeric. While this was softening and becoming headily aromatic, I tipped in half a cup each of organic Puy lentils, organic brown lentils, and red lentils from the bulk section at Pak'n'Save. Into this went a tin of chopped tomatoes, enough water to cover everything, plenty of salt...and that was it. It was pretty magical. Almost more of a curry than a soup, deeply flavoured with a marvelously thick texture. I thoroughly recommend you try it, especially if you find yourself crouching at the freezer with a spoon, surreptitiously eating your way through a tub of ice cream, or accidentally eating a whole loaf's worth of overbuttered toast. Hey, we've all been there. Well, I have at least...

Above: This is what we had for dinner on St Patrick's Day. Somehow it conspired that we had all the ingredients for that Autobahn classic, wedges with cheese, bacon, and sour cream. Even though there are probably far better uses for the bacon, at the time I couldn't think of a better one. I served this with roasted capsicum and beetroot, which I drizzled with balsamic vinegar.

Above: Larb, with Cambodian Cucumber Salad from my Healthy Salads of Southeast Asia book, which was Tuesday night's dinner. Larb is a bit of an in-joke for Tim and me - I guess we're odd like that - we were playing Scrabble this one time (by the way, for someone who read the dictionary for kicks as a child, I am awful at Scrabble), and I used the word Larb. Tim said it wasn't real, I told him he was uneducated, and he asked if I could use it in a sentence. All I could think of was "this is my larb." Anyway, we found this kind of hysterical (I don't expect you to, that's why it's an in-joke) but finally wikipedia proved me right. I still didn't win that game. The cucumber salad is a great use of this particular vegetable, crunchy with cashews and dressed with fish sauce, garlic, and other such good things. I liked it a lot, and Tim said "yes" when asked if it was nice so you might be seeing this again. I'll only tell you larb story this once though, promise.

Above: Lentil Cashew Cakes! (I'm not actually quite sure what to dub them; 'patty' sounds too earnest and I find something suspicious sounding about the word 'fritter' so 'cakes' will have to do.) I saw this recipe in the recipe column of the Sunday Star magazine section. It was written by the wonderful Ray McVinnie, whose column in Cuisine is always outstandingly inspiring, so I should have known these would be nothing less than brilliant. Cooked up brown lentils are mashed with cumin, garlic, coriander, eggs, chopped cashews and a little flour, and fried till cooked through (I used my awesome non-stick pan that I got for my 21st.) These chubby little cakes are fantastic - the soft crunch of the cashews provides the perfect foil for the unfamiliarly grainy texture of the lentils. To go with, I chopped some cucumber up, tossed it in some Greek yoghurt with ginger and garlic (adapting another recipe from this column) and steamed some brocolli. Oh, and there were more wedges:

Above: Wedges!

Easter is just around the corner and though I'm not looking forward to doing assignments instead of flying home, I am very, very excited about making my first ever batch of Hot Cross Buns (Nigella, of course!)

Oh yeah - we went to the cricket on Saturday. Technically we got a good deal: we paid $25 for a ticket to the cricket, (which I don't like), a tshirt (which I'll never wear), a beer (which I don't drink), and a piece of toast with (excellent) bacon and (watery, curiously fishy) eggs at the Loaded Hog before the game. I've made no secret of the fact that I think Sports=Bullying (at least when I have to be involved, anyway) so it begs the question, what on earth was I doing there? Well, I was more than prepared to stay at home but I got told that it would be fun and that I should come and that it was a great way to spend nine hours of your life. So with this in mind it would be facetious (but not out of character) for me to slate cricket entirely; just because I hate something doesn't always make it morally abhorrent. But for real: It is intensely tedious. At about 2pm I almost became frantic, panicky even , with boredom and no forseeable conclusion to this charmless game. There were many times when I turned to Tim and asked him - genuinely - if they were still playing or just having an hour-long team talk, because that's what it looked like. There is literally nothing to see, and nothing to do but sit. I can't emphasise this enough. On a positive note, we were sitting amongst the Barmy Army, who are truly a delightful bunch, convivial and entertaining and ready with a song for every possible eventuality. They chanted "Micheal Vaughan's Barmy Army" for a full eleven minutes. Their insanity kept me sane. So, no more cricket. At least I know for sure now that I don't like it. Does anyone want a free tshirt?

My Funny Valentine

Ah, Valentine's Day. The day where I say to Tim: "It's just a commercialised, Americanised cold-hearted event thought up by Hallmark in order to sell more cards" while inside I'm thinking "pleeease do something for me!!" I honestly don't want much. I meant what I said about it being commercial and tacky. Well Tim, bless him, completely exceeded expectations and not only got me a card but also got me (even though I told him not to) a beautiful bunch of flowers - delivered at work! So, for one of the few times in my life, I got to be that smug gal who walks home clutching a bouquet.

For my part, I made a rather nice dinner last night. Nothing too taxing - a free range bird, some potatoes roasted stickily in garlic, some frozen peas. But also the nicest thing to eat, to be honest - there is nothing so simple but also celebratory as a roast chicken.

Above: The only thing I love more than roast chicken is planning what I'm going to do with the leftover meat. Because chicken breasts are very expensive, having the cooked meat to toy with is rather thrilling.

Above: At the behest of Nigella's Feast, I chopped potatoes into cubes and roasted them with olive oil and garlic cloves. After a while I threw in some cauliflower, because you all know how I feel about this particular member of the brassic family. I must admit, every time I took the tray out of the oven to have a stir, I ate more and more of the sweet, sweet, crispy bits...we were rather lucky that there was anything left for dinner.

For dessert, however, I put in a bit more grunt. I had a concept, which didn't entirely materialise as I thought it might...but hey. It's the thought that counts on Valentine's Day, right?

Above: Admit it. If you took this photo yourself, you'd be quite proud. I don't think I'm too forward in thinking it would not look out of place on a much more chi chi food blog. Especially when you take into account the fact that I don't take particularly good photos in the first place. I like this so much that I'd better actually tell you what it is - Pomegranate Ice Cream. Monumentally easier to make than the name would suggest, you merely stir icing sugar in the juice of a couple of ruby-red pomegranates, add some cream, stir some more, and freeze. It tastes heavenly. Almost unfathomably good. And it comes out a very pretty, Valentine-y pink colour.

Look what happens when you stir it!

Above: Ooooooooh.

To augment this, I made some flourless chocolate brownies, (the recipe for this, along with the ice cream, can be found in Nigella Express) and the Barbados Cream from How To Eat. Barbados Cream is equal quantities of cream and Greek yoghurt stirred together briskly, with dark brown sugar sprinkled over, left in the fridge overnight. It tastes amazing - creamy and tangy and intensely caramelly.

Above: Pa-da! Yes, that is a heart made out of berries. To be frank this didn't turn out how I'd hoped, visually, I think I was yearning for some kind of Donna Hay style-presentation. Considering I don't like Donna Hay all that much I guess I shouldn't try and channel her, especially considering how generally cack-handed I am - it could only end badly. Luckily everything tasted good. According to the flatmates (the night wasn't toooo romantic) the brownies are amazing, which is always nice to hear about something you have baked. Everything tasted great together, even if it didn't look so pretty.

I have been making other stuff lately:

Above: I mentioned in my last post about how enamoured I am with my new yoghurt maker. I am LOVING having yoghurt around (like chicken breasts, and, well, everything, yoghurt is pretty expensive) and used some of it in this Greek Yoghurt Cake that I found in Jill Dupleix' New Food. It is a very easy to make, and bakes into a large, golden, fragrant cake. I was pleased with how the whole 'dust-icing-sugar-over-cut-out-shapes' went, but to be honest I was even more pleased with how good it tasted. I made this on Wednesday in order to herald Kieran's brief returning to Hadfield before he went back to work in Napier.

Above: I made this for dinner the other night. Burmese Salad from the Healthy Salads book, grilled potatoes with tumeric, steamed beet greens (or pinks as they ought rightly to be named), and meatballs flavoured with, inspired by a recipe in New Food, sake. It was pretty great, not to mention totally, smugly healthy.

Above: Our entire flat (which now includes my cousin Paul, hoorah!) got really quite drunk after pudding last night, which means that it was No Fun getting up for work this morning. However it is in complete sobriety that I wish you Happy Valentine's Day, dear readers (but I love you every day of the year!)

Anarchy! Revolution, Justice, Screaming for Solution...(and Buttercream)

I realise, looking back, that the last post was bordering on being unbearably wordy, so kudos to you if you made it to the end without vowing never to return. As anyone who had received one of my emails from England knows, once I start typing about stuff I'm a bit excited about, I find it hard to stop.

In order to appease you, this post is largely made up of pictures. Soothing pictures. (Especially if there are any Generation-Y kids reading, I've seen how, bless you, growing up amongst all this technology has stunted your attention spans!) The reason for this is that the Auckland posts took ages to do but in the meantime, dinner kept happening and needs blogging about.


Before I launch into it though, I have news that is potentially exciting to me only! The Levin Performing Arts Society is putting on a production of Rent! Okay, it's not the damn Nederlander theatre in New York, but Levin is only an hour from Wellington and if it looks like it won't be entirely rubbish I kinda want to go. It's odd though, I've passed through Levin on the bus before and it doesn't look like the sort of place that would take on such a production. Shouldn't be all judgy though, as I know nothing about the company...I just hope the actors are decent. Because - Rent!! Opportunity!



Above: Nuts! When I was up home (for less than 24 hours, can you believe) I made Mum some more of Nigella's muesli from Feast, which she has taken a real shine to (mercifully, as I gave her some for Christmas. I don't think she's just being polite.) It is very plain, simple, and good breakfast fare: Rolled oats and raw nuts, toasted in the oven for a bit, stirred with sultanas and a spoonful of brown sugar. That's all. You could add whatever dried fruit or seeds you want. It may sound dull, but let me tell you, there is something quietly Zen about making one's own muesli.



Above: Don't you feel all warm and wholesome just looking at it?


Above: This may well look like baby food...which is what I suppose risotto is, in a way, baby food for grownups. What I mean, is that it is so mushy and comforting and formless that it is rather like...well I'm not entirely sure what I mean, I just don't want to insult any Italians that might be roving by. That is, if they aren't already offended by this dish's Anglo title of "Cheddar Cheese Risotto." Now I didn't actually have any proper cheddar to hand, so I used a pleasantly golden mixture of Emmental, Parmesan, and er...Edam. This came from Nigella Express and we ate it for dinner when we got back from Auckland. Despite some trepidation about whether normal cheese and risotto belonged together, it was seriously fab-o.



Above: While in Auckland, I got a cookbook from Borders by a guy called Vatcharin Bhumichitr, called Healthy Salads From Southeast Asia. It was, apparently, one of Nigella's top ten books of 1997 - is there indeed a higher recommendation? This book looks stunning, I want to make everything from it. But I started off with this bean salad. Very simple flavours of soy, lime, garlic - not the first things I'd think to pair with beans but simply delicious.



Above: This is a chicken salad from the same book, and let me tell you, this photo doesn't do it justice (do any of my photos, come to think on it...) This salad was soooo good, I was almost disappointed that I had to share it with Tim.



Above: For some reason, whenever I hear someone say "Ratatouille," I always want to say "Rata-three-ee" just to be facetious. Anyhow, I had the opportunity to do so when I cooked it for dinner the other night. Tomatoes, capsicums and zuchinni are cheap and plentiful, and after Auckland we really oughta eat some vegetables. So it all worked out rather nicely. I didn't use a recipe, just kind chopped and stirred and simmered stuff together with tomato passata.





Above: Okay, so there have been salads and the like but I know what people reeeally get excited about is the sweet stuff. It was Waitangi Day on Wednesday, and I don't know why that equated to butterfly cakes in my mind but that's what I really wanted to do with my time. I used the recipe from Nigella's How To Be A Domestic Goddess, it couldn't be easier. I also used these nifty silicone cupcake-holder thingies that I got for Christmas from my godparents, not only are they useful they also suited my colour scheme!



Above: Now, I'm not one of those girls who is all "Pink pink pink pink! Everything must be pink!" But you know as well as I do that it is the only colour right for the buttercream.

You don't know how hard it has been not to eat the entire lot in one sitting.

As well as that, I made up a cake recipe. That's right- I'm actually super excited about it, as I have massive admiration for people who just make recipes out of their heads. Now that I've started, I want to make more - it is rather intoxicatingly fun. Or weird, depending on how you look at it.



Above: As you can see, I had a pink icing thang going on that day. This cake doesn't as yet have a name, although I was inspired to ice it pink with walnuts by a description of a cake I read about in Anne of Avonlea (what is it with me and Canadian cakes? "What's your business in Canada" indeed!) Anyway, the working title is "Coffee Cinnamon Sour Cream Walnut Cake' although I concede that it is a schmeer cumbersome. I can't pretend that this is the only cake in the world with these flavourings, but I haven't seen one recently, and I didn't use any recipe books.

More importantly, the cake tastes gooood. I got Ange and Tim to give me harsh feedback, but they had nothing but praise. And good thing too, or it would be a bit of a waste of ingredients. Anyway, I might make it a few more times before I settle on the ur-recipe, but trust me: it's an exhilarating experience, making up a cake recipe. Do you know how finite and precise baking has to be? Do you realise how imprecise and unmathmatical I am?


Okay, so in the manner of Green Day in the Simpsons Movie - "We've been playing for three hours now, but we'd just like to take a minute of your time to talk about the environment!" They were booed, and eventually killed. Please hear me out though- it's a little serious and political, but to be fair, I am so rarely either of these things. For what it's worth (as it were):


The country village I grew up in - Otaua (always fun to spell out over the phone) - is being threatened by a company called Waste Petroleum Combustion. They want to put massive oil silos - for more than a million litres of oil - and start a treatment plant. Across the road from my parents' house. Next to a whole swag of farmland. A stone's throw from a school. I can't speak on this with too much authority, but as it would happen, we got on the national news show - you can read the story here - but I wanted to say something, to use my blog as a kind of platform. I realise that this will probably only reach a few foodies in Australia and England, and my mother, but then look what happened with the Rufus Wainwright video below. I have mentioned this here before on my blog (if nothing else, I got a really pleasing Rent analogy out of it) but it seems to be getting serious so I thought I might as well mention it again in order to make people aware. I'm not sure what we are going to do about it but my Dad is now the President of the Otaua Village Preservation Society ("We are the village green preservation society...") which is a promising start. If nothing else, we could try feeding the people of Waste Petroleum Combustion some pink butterfly cakes - if that can't win someone over, I'm not sure what could.

Damn the man!