emsk

Last night took me from “I have no idea what dinner’s going to be” to “pasta with bacon and gouda / blue brie sauce” inside of about 40 minutes.

Here’s how it went down:

Remove bacon from freezer, nuke enough it can be chopped.

Pasta spirals + water + cast iron pan + stove.

Cast iron frypan + butter + olive oil + stove.

Chop bacon, apply to pan.

Rummage fridge for further ideas. Apply onion to pan.

Decide on cheese sauce, realise no milk, add white wine to pan. Add red wine to self, from last night’s open bottle. Add parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme, celery seeds. Add 50g butter and potato flakes to thicken. Add large dollop of sour cream (see: no milk). Add water to thin sauce somewhat.

Rummage cheese drawer, find end of gouda and half a blue brie wheel. Chop both (after removing white rind from brie), add to pan. Add heaping tablespoon of tomato paste.

Rummage fridge further, find tupperware with leftover misc veges. Chop finely, add to sauce as pretence that we are civilised adults that eat our veges.

Discover that by some miracle, you have cooked four servings of dinner on an evening when you are feeding four adults.

Originally published at kiwi geek. You can comment here or there.

It occurred to me this evening that I MIGHT want to review my definition of ‘easy’, where cooking is concerned.

I made devilled sausages, with spinach served over rice. I considered this a very easy dinner to make.

If I explode the process out, though…

Put rice & water in saucepan, apply heat. (This bit: actually easy by anyone’s standards.) Less straightforward: saucepan is cast iron and holds heat beautifully, making it harder to burn rice.

Heat cast iron pan with butter & olive oil. Yes, both, I like mixing my fats in the cast iron. (Have cast iron pan. Have appropriate heat source for cast iron pan. Know how to clean cast iron pan, rendering it usable in future.)

Chop onion, apply to pan. Remove sausages from freezer (buy sausages, place in freezer…), nuke briefly, chop into half rounds, apply to pan. (Have sharp knife and good chopping boards.)

Apply tomato paste, water, jar of home-made apple sauce (.. yeah, that easy thing?), home made chilli sauce (… again), stock from freezer (…).

Turn to spice rack, add celery seeds, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. Previously, have spices organised enough that they actually live in that order in spice rack. Spice rack has ‘herbs’ in top layer, ‘less used herbs’ in bottom layer. Other spice rack has ‘curry’ in top rack, ‘baking’ in bottom rack. There is also a herb drawer. We will not discuss the herb drawer. You could get lost in there and go on adventures.

Simmer until sauce magically occurs. Thicken with potato flakes.

Apply spinach from freezer to pan, simmer until spinach melts.

Serve over the rice, which you have supervised and ensured cooked & not stuck to saucepan.

Dinner took me about 40 minutes in clock time. About, oh, ten minutes of that was active cooking, the rest was dishwashing, stirring, drinking wine and talking crap with Kazz…

Yes, I consider this an easy dinner. But there is a shitload of work, preparation, skill, and I don’t know, How Food And/Or Kitchen Works 101 under the hood there.

Easy for me, but that’s quite a privilege.

Originally published at kiwi geek. You can comment here or there.

I’ve had vague plans for a bread for some time, and attempted same today.

Standard white dough mix – 300ml milk, 1 egg, four cups flour, 4 tsp bread-improver-yeast-mix, 2 tbsp oil, 2 tbsp sugar, 1 tsp salt – added a cup of mozz & some cracked pepper while the dough was kneaded (breadmaker FTW).

Broke the dough into small chunks, dunked each in pear/balsamic sauce, crammed the whole lot into a well greased roasting dish, sprinkled another 1/2 cup of mozz over the top. Let it rise for another 15 mins while the oven pre-heated, baked for ~20 mins. Served with chicken in tomato-basil sauce as dinner.

Forgot to take photos. Household report problems of insufficient digestive capacity to finish eating entire loaf.

Originally published at kiwi geek. You can comment here or there.

It’s well established that my mother doesn’t cook. It’s not that she can’t – she’s a functional adult and perfectly capable of putting meals together. Just that where possible, she avoids it.

As such, my cooking instruction as a child extended to the basics of “how not to hurt yourself in a kitchen”, being pointed at the recipe books, given stern instructions to clean up after myself, and left to go nuts and learn.

So on the one hand, I LOVE cooking. I really do. On the other, a child’s approach to recipes is very “right, I’ve read it, now I’ll do my own thing”, which occasionally doesn’t work.

It especially doesn’t work for baking, which is a science. Cooking is art, so I can get away with it.

As an adult, my approach is also instinct + occasional recipe glances + “I wonder what happens if?” Mostly this results in food, because my instincts are good.

We’ll use today’s chicken, corn, and noodle soup as a prime example of how this process works.
Yesterday: two chicken carcasses + crockpot + water + long, slow cooking = several litres of chicken stock. Two liters got frozen, I was left with two-odd litres of stock, in delicious delicious refrigerated gel form.

Today: “Hmmm, I feel like soup.”

Picked the chicken carcasses for bones. Chopped up two small onions, sweated them in 50g of butter (yes, lots), with the picked off chicken (a bowlful before I gave up and threw the rest of the carcasses away). Added salt and pepper. Added celery seeds. Prodded it a bit. Added parsley. Prodded more, added italian herb mix.

Added half the stock, raided the freezer for veges, could not find mixed veges was looking for, found corn, decided corn was good enough. Added 2c of corn (very, very approx).

Returned to stove, prodded soup with spoon some more.

Pondered addition of noodles. Didn’t really want to use instant noodles. Looked at spaghetti thoughtfully. Took serving of spaghetti, broke into small (~1 inch pieces), dumped in pan.

Prodded soup with spoon some more.

Made cornflour slurry, added that. Added dried potato flakes.

Wandered away from stove while stock reduced and spaghetti cooked.

Wandered back, ran out of patience, served soup to self.

Three cups of soup later, I have determined that a) this is delicious soup and b) I really should put the rest in the fridge now before I explode.

Originally published at kiwi geek. You can comment here or there.

Just after we got back to work in January, I decided I wanted more time off. I booked the second week of Feb on the basis that I wasn’t on call that week and no-one else was on leave.

As it turns out, that’s the week that Toby started a new contract. Although I have to climb out of bed in the mornings, so that he actually gets OUT THE DOOR in the morning, it means I have had the house to myself ALL WEEK. IT’S SO GOOD.

Foodstravaganza: I have
* made four litres of yogurt, some of which has been turned into labneh or is mid-turning-into-labneh, some of which has been consumed, some of which is in the fridge awaiting consumption. The whey from the labneh is going into bread tomorrow
* turned two chicken carcasses (from the freezer) into about 3l of chicken stock
* crockpot curry (not my best effort, but it was last night’s dinner)
* many chickpeas boiled & popped in the freezer for later meals
* 1kg of rice, boiled & in the freezer for later meals (some of it went to the curry above)
* sushi, both salmon and tuna
* home-made pizzas on puff pastry (ham, spinach, cheese, tomato paste, pesto)

Cleanstravaganza:
* Exit Mold’ed the shower, cleaned the other shower, cleaned three toilets
* emptied pantry, sorted contents, returned to pantry
* emptied other pantry, sorted contents, returned to pantry (see: hipster shelf! I liked mason jars /before/ they were cool. Technically this was a week ago but IT COUNTS)
* emptied freezer, sorted contents, returned to freezer
* emptied plasticware boxes in pantry, sorted contents, threw away bases and lids that don’t match, returned to pantry
* listed bras for sale on Trademe
* listed nail polish for sale on Trademe

Other:
* five hours of dance lessons (privates and workshops)
* not enough piano
* surprisingly no DragonAge (yet), mostly because the weather’s been lovely
* laundry
* arranged for a quote for some guttering that badly needs replaced before winter (ugggghhh)

Oh, and because it counts as decluttering (!!): Running total: 175/365

A productive and enjoyable non-work week.

I liked mason jars before they were cool.

Originally published at kiwi geek. You can comment here or there.

Amaaaaazing cheesecake completely from scratch. I baked cookies for the base, beat them into crumbs, added the melted butter… It’s a no-bake cheesecake. The topping is mixed fruits – blackberries, blueberries, and strawberries cooked gently and a little gelatin added.

I’m very proud and it’s DELICIOUS.

Originally published at kiwi geek. You can comment here or there.

Step the first: be born to a mother who loves to garden. Wait for a year where one poor tomato plant decides that this is THE YEAR that it will produce ALL THE TOMATOES EVER, so that Mum is pulling out her hair trying to figure out what to do with nearly three hundred tomatoes (yes really!), offer to take them all off her hands.

Haul a chilly bin and freezer bag of tomatoes home from her place. Apply to chest freezer until inspiration strikes.

Step the second: decide tomato soup is the way to go.

Make tomato soup the proper way, with stock and carrot and celery and onion and long slow cooking and blending and sieving out the solids. Eat the soup. Put the pulp in the freezer until a bright idea presents itself.

Step the third: a kilo of ground beef, half a kilo of pork sausage, the tomato soup pulp, bread crumbs, flour, kneading, and baking.

For bonus points, drizzle the top of the loaf with previously home-made tomato bbq sauce, for a glazy spicy loveliness.

Feel proud, as your first ever meatloaf is a resounding success.

This has been the LOVELIEST Christmas.

Christmas day, we had the usual suspects for dinner, five altogether. Boxing day, we had seven; then the 27th, a pair of friends with three kids dropped in, for a further excellent dinner.

There has been lots of food and ham and puddings and ham and more food and we don’t want ham again until at least Easter, seriously, and fruit mince pies – I still have 1.5kg of fruit mince jarred up, will it keep until next xmas you think? and excellent company, and games of the card, computer, and beach-ball variety, AND I still don’t have to go back to work until the 7th Jan and I am a happy woman.

I’ve cleaned some things, but not all the things I want yet. Still, I’m happy with the overall success of Operation 2012: the house is still a bit of a problem in certain areas, but I feel more on top of the overall operation. Life-management is always a work in progress.

I’ve also had the time to be crafty. In the last couple of days, I’ve finished these two. It’s continuing to be a good vacation.

I was recently introduced to a local website, where you can buy samples of tea. About two tablespoons in a small ziploc bag, which is enough for a few mugs or a teapot or so.

I bought 12 samples. They are all living at work, along with one of my teaballs. It’s really good tea, and I’m enjoying the variety. Plus, the more tea I drink, the less soda I drink, and as I don’t have sugar in my tea, that can only be positive, right?

A couple of my coworkers are tea enthusiasts, too. It took a few minutes for me to realise that handing over a small plastic bag and saying “here, sniff this!” looks ever so slightly dodgy…

Reasonable things to do when 28 years of age, on a Saturday:

1) Eat cookies for breakfast, and forgo lunch through laziness.

2) Go to a 2.5 hour bellydance class.

Stupid things to do when 28 years of age, on a Saturday:

Do both of the above on the same day.

I did get a nice compliment from the teacher when learning the basic undulation.

“Have you done belly dance before?”

“Nope, never.”

“You’re remarkably capable with those muscles then!”

It is of course because I do zouk, as there’s a lot of isolation work required to do zouk properly. It was still nice.

I think I’ll do belly dance again. It was a fantastic workout, it’s something I’d like to do anyway, and the skill will translate helpfully through to zouk and salsa.

My abs hurt like whoa, I am tired, and I have just started to put a lasagna together, starting with the egg+flour to make pasta stage. This is a good Saturday, stupidity with cookies aside.

I have returned from Work Roadtrip. Damn near 400km on 30l of gas. I’m happy with that.

I enjoyed detouring to visit my mother, too. We had a very pleasant dinner – I introduced her to Japanese food for the first time. I couldn’t believe that she’d never even had sushi!

Then I came home, hugged my husband, and went out to a zouk party. I was having a good evening right up until some arsehole informed me that he wasn’t desperate enough to dance with fat chicks. There’s a reason I stopped asking men to dance, and that right there is it.

L’esprit de l’escalier being what it is, I didn’t think to point out that it was astonishing anyone could dance with him, with his head shoved that firmly up his arse.

Amongst the other things in my Foodbox this week, I had a 10kg box of cooking-quality plums. So far, we’ve had an epic plum crumble and eight jars of jam.

I’m on the road again next week, for work. This time, I’m fairly close to my hometown – so I’m driving down in my own car (although will be expensing the mileage), and I’ll swing past and visit Mum Friday night, Nana Saturday, and home that afternoon/evening. I’m looking forward to the trip – it’s awhile since I’ve seen Nana, and it’s an opportunity to drop off some of the ridiculous amounts of jam/sauce I’ve managed to collect in the pantry lately. Fortunately both Mum and Nana actually like jam, as 10kg of plums turns into a truly ridiculous amount of jam, even after I set some aside for plum crumble. We’re going to be eating this all year.

Tobermory’s taken over breadmaker duties lately. He makes a good loaf of bread! This is helpful, admittedly largely as a delivery mechanism for more jam. I also make my own yoghurt, and tend to make plain unsweetened yoghurt and flavour it myself. I suspect plum jam is going to feature highly over the next few batches.

I bought a clock for the snug a few weekends ago. The inflatable one I’ve had since high school gave up the ghost at long last – the clock mechanism, not the inflatable bit, surprisingly enough – so I bought a round, equally bright yellow, clock to replace it.

I have not been allowed to throw away the box.

I feel like a mass of contradictions, sometimes. I want to work in IT, but I also like being a homebody who cooks and sews. I want to be a dancer, but I love food, cooking and eating. I like being strong, and being independent, and I want to be at home with my husband, under his protection.

I would like to own a cafe someday. There is a quote from Pratchett that is pretty much the sort of place I’d like to own.

There were plenty of hot-chair eating places like the one Vimes headed for now. It sold plain food for plain men. There wasn’t a menu. You ate what was put in front of you, you ate it quick, and you were glad to get it. If you didn’t like it, there were plenty who did. The dishes had names like Slumgullet, Boiled Eels, Lob Scouse, Wet Nellies, Slumpie and Treacle Billy — good, solid stuff that stuck to the ribs and made it hard to get up out of the seat. They generally had a lot of turnip in, even if they weren’t supposed to.

I’m good at tasty / bulk meals like this, and I’d love a little hole-in-the-wall cafe with bar stools and high benches, a different meal, or maybe two at most, each day. It would have bread rolls and nice solid stoneware dishes and be wildly popular, and a little bit quirky. I would sell jam and sauces and maybe cookies and things to take away for dessert.

Funny thing happened at dance a few weeks ago. In salsa, I spend a lot of time in salsa chanting “1,2,3…5,6,7…” to myself. I’m a musician at heart, so I don’t generally struggle to keep time – I understand what the music is doing. Still, counting under my breath helps me remember what I’m doing right now, especially when learning a new move.

Practicing with a classmate the other week, we were going great guns. After a few double-speed turns, I was running out of breath and gave up the chant, in favour of counting in my head. Suddenly the whole thing fell apart, he lost time, I couldn’t figure out what he was doing, flailwaughstop.

“What happened there?”

“You stopped counting! I was lipreading!”

“I was out of breath, dude! You could… count for yourself?”

“I… I never thought of that.”

Periodically, the company gets reminders from the finance department. It’s X time of year, please remember to do Y, that sort of thing. Usually they’re form emails.

Late last year, someone cocked up. Instead of the usual “dear everyone, please do X, regards, Finance”, we received a little missive from a gentleman to his ladyfriend. He was looking forward to their anniversary, and wished her a very sexy time over the weekend. There were no names, for which we were all thankful.

I’m in the IT department. We all know who was responsible. As such, one of the admins periodically takes delight in asking the author what cost code he should charge sexytimes to…

NEWSFLASH – Candy and Tigra both sat on the couch with me last night. They were actually butt-to-butt, snuggling, beside me, and both purring. Astonishingly awesome.

I missed a ballroom class yesterday. I was absolutely shagged after work, and half-forgot and half-just-gave-up on it. I’m not enjoying ballroom the same way I enjoy some of my other classes; and it’s also quite hard to learn alongside zouk. Zouk is a lot more … flowing? The way you use the body is almost completely opposed to the careful way you should be moving for ballroom. And I’m not a good enough dancer to manage both. And I love zouk, so – zouk.

Also, I’ve inexplicably hurt my left foot. I was walking down the hallway on Sunday and my big toe joint just went “crack-pop” at me, which was a) quite painful b) somewhat sub-optimal for dancing c) quite painful. It’s mostly OK, but I do have to be careful not to tread too heavily on that joint.

I got the breadmaker out on Monday night. Lovely light wheatmeal bread – rose like a champ, hit the top of the breadmaker and sunk. The loaf is thus mostly square, but oh it’s delicious. Tobermory and I have eaten most of it – breakfast and lunch for two days isn’t bad going for a loaf, though.

Plus, cheap. Cheap + tasty = win. Next on my list: sweetcorn and capsicum bread, and/or “whatever looks interesting in the next Foodbox” vege loaf.

One of the things that Tobermory and I want to do this year is get smarter with our money. We’re both impulse-buyers, and inclined to go for instant gratification. Obviously, that has to change. We’re adults, allegedly, and frankly we’ve bought all the conceivable junk we could need, and in fact far more than we could need. I know I haven’t read all my books, he hasn’t played all his video games, I haven’t sewn all my fabric… you get the drift. We need the money more than we need more crap, given our grandiose plans for the house. Built in floor to ceiling shelving. A new roof. A new kitchen…

One of the obvious and easy money savers is bringing lunch, rather than buying. That shouldn’t be any hardship – I love to cook, and we nearly always have leftovers. I don’t intend to go completely mad to the extent of making bento boxes, but you know what? They are pretty awesome. Plus, home-made’s gotta be healthier than takeaways, right?

So far this week, I’ve made lunch for us. I have one of these, and T uses more traditional plasticware.

Monday was salad, corn chips, canned fish, and frozen fruit. Tobes had leftover chilli. Yesterday, I had potato salad, canned fish, salad, and juice; T had (leftover) grilled chicken, rice, and salad with a pottle of mustard dressing because I couldn’t find the Hellmanns. Today he has the same, and I have chicken, rice, home-made sweet chilli hummus, and dipping sticks of carrot and cucumber. It takes maybe five minutes in the morning to bung it all together out of the fridge – hooray for a well supplied fridge and a little forethought when packing leftover dinner the night before. We’re even packing a can of fizzy each – it’s cheaper than the vending machines, and frankly, we’re not going to give up the Sprite/Coke. (Yet.)

We’re going to be sensible about it. If we try and live like complete paupers, we’ll both have stupid breakouts at some point. So we’re budgeting spending money, which neither of us has to account for to the other. And once a week, we buy lunch and/or have takeaways for dinner. It works for us.

Candy appears to have decided that the best place to sleep is on me. It makes it rather hard to turn over when you have 3.5kgs of kitty snuggled in the shoulderblades. Feline integration project, revision three, going surprisingly well. Tigra sits outside the bedroom door quite regularly – if it’s opened, she’ll leap in the door, flail at Candy’s face, then wander in and steal her biscuits. Last weekend, Candy was having a walkabout – I heard thudda thudda thudda down the hall, in a fashion that suggested two cats were involved, and investigated. Boo had decided that Candy needed to be back in her room, and upon shepherding her down the hall, discovered she had kibble! She was sat under the bed, the picture of dejection, while buggerlugs cleaned out her bowl. Tigra and Candy have progressed to nose and bottom sniffs – and they both bounced down the hallway in “play” mode Wednesday night. Tails up, bouncing along. It was lovely to see.

Tobermory has been working some ridiculous hours lately. I’m taking the opportunity to eat things that he doesn’t like.

Last night, the result was something approaching paella. Fried up capsicum seeds, capsicum, and bloomed tumeric, chilli powder, and cumin in a bit of olive oil. Added cracked pepper, basil, lemongrass, oregano, and rosemary; threw in tomato paste, about 300g of precooked/frozen shrimp, and three (chopped) cheese chorizo sausages. Dropped in a couple of helpings of rice (was just feeding myself and Thaqui), filled the bowl that I’d nuke-thawed the chorizos in with water, applied that to the pan, and let it simmer down into something saucy and delightful.

Finally, finely chopped a bunch of – I think it was silverbeet? green leafy thing in the vege drawer, anyway, probably not spinach – and stirred that through, let it simmer down for another couple of minutes until it was wilted; applied to bowls, added forks, and wandered back to the study to play videogames.

About fifteen minutes, two helpings, no leftovers, and we had a tasty dinner. It’s funny how just about every country has a variation on fried rice.

So, it is RAINING like whoa here, and so I decided during the afternoon (it’s Sunday, and this is New Zealand ergo it is winter) that I needed cookies. And as we didn’t have cookies in the house, clearly I had to make some. We also had guests, which makes it a no-brainer to be a good hostess and feed them, right? But I wanted INSTANT gratification, and we have a waffle iron, so clearly the answer is waffle iron cookies.

The interwebs to the rescue, recipe obtained, and why did no-one tell me about waffle cookies before? Why? Because, let me tell you, they are a) superfast b) really good!

These are going on my List up alongside mugcake, of things I really probably shouldn’t be allowed to make, like, ever, because I will eat my own weight in instant gratification foodstuffs. And, er, I may be planning to make another batch tonight technically to take to work tomorrow but really because I want to have one with icecream.

Ganked from here.

Ingredients

1/2 cup salted butter

2/3 cup granulated sugar

2 large eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 cup whole-wheat pastry flour

6 tablespoons cocoa powder

2 tablespoons canola oil

I replaced the cocoa powder with normal flour and cornflour mixed, because I didn’t want chocolate cookies; I added vanilla, orange peel, and cointreau because I wanted citrus cookies. And I got oils mixed up and put sesame oil in, but oh well. Then I drizzled maple syrup on them afterwards instead of e.g. frosting. So. Tasty.

Preheat the waffle iron. Cream butter and sugar in a medium bowl. Beat in eggs and vanilla. Add flour, cocoa powder, oil. Beat until thoroughly combined.

The original instructions say to drop a spoonful into each section of the waffle maker, presumably so you get separate cookies. I, however, decided “bugger that” and made waffle-sized cookies which I carefully broke along the waffle-lines once done.

Close and cook until the cookies are puffed and cooked through, 1 to 1 1/2 minutes.

Originally published at spinneretta

Signs this is a geeky household: birthday present = RAM and large HD for laptop, and pair of Sennheiser earbuds.

Signs this is an anachronistic household: I made kiwifruit chilli sauce, tamarillo toffee sauce, banana nut sauce, and spiced orange sauce this week. (And have four in a parcel to go down to Mum’s tomorrow.)

Signs this is winter: Tigra is sneezing. And she is ridiculously funny, because it’s “chuu!chuu!chuu!chuu!chuu!chuu!” sneezies, but still. Vet appointment required, poor wee sausage will not love me at all.

Pathway to best apple crumble ever:

Realise that fruitbowl and fridge are overflowing with apples. Mutter vaguely to self about failure to eat healthily, and also how it’s a disgrace to waste good food. Stop, realise in horrified manner that you are channeling mother, but nonetheless, make apple sauce. Decide partway through chopping apples for sauce that cannot be bothered peeling apples, and as in possession of stick blender, apple skins can go in too. Make sauce, put in jam jars, leave in cupboard.

Then invite friends over for dinner some months later. Decide to make apple crumble on something of a whim, and also because friend points out fruitbowl overflowing with apples (yes, again). Peel apples grumpily, ungrump when remembering there was a jelly recipe you wanted to try which skins will be fine for. Get bored when apple volume approximately 3/4 of desired amount for crumble. Remember apple sauce in pantry, spoon jarful over chopped apple.

Realise while making crumble that there is no coconut. Grumble, as coconut vastly preferable to rolled oats. Use rolled oats anyway, after vague poke through baking shelf in pantry reveals no oats, then you remember oats are stored on another shelf as primary ingredient in flatmate’s breakfast porridge.

Leave in oven for hour while eating, and digesting, dinner.

Extract from oven, serve with phew, there is enough icecream for everyone, and realise that crumble has in places turned itself into glorious chunks of anzac biscuit, nom nom, and in one corner of dish glorious, glorious toffee/caramel thing has happened with butter and apple and sugar.

Explain to all present that there will be Complaints if some crumble is not present in morning for breakfast. Be informed by overnight guest that your wrath is not sufficient deterrent to midnight consumption of crumble, and they will risk it anyway as they concur as to the Tasty.

(A conversation via txt with my mother.)

Me: sometimes being a grownup means doing things you don’t like. Today that means bringing salad for lunch.

Mum: Oh dear! I at bakery eating fish potato top pie and custard square.

(then a minute later)

Mum: yum yum. just licked all my fingers, now off to work it all off!

Me: BOO YOU TEASE

Mum: Ha ha ha.

I love my mum.

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Entries tagged with food

Bacon and blue brie sauce.

Define ‘easy’…

pear-balsamic-cheese bread.

Chicken, corn, & noodle soup

Time out

cheeeeeeesecaaaaaake

How to Make Amazing Meatloaf.

Holiday fun

Tea!

motivation

There’s always one.

in a bit of a jam

sitting inside my head

ping, still not dead.

Burning a hole in your pocket

The more things change, the more they stay the same

COOOKIE

Our house, in the middle of our street

Best. Apple. Crumble. Ever.

On adulthood.

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November 2015

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