Blancmange, B, Ballet and Breaking Bad.

Hello again. It's been a full week since my last confession blog post. Forgive me readers for I have sinned. You know, been slack again. About posting. Which I know doesn't matter in the slightest but still, I feel I need to act as though I am a minor celebrity by apologizing. So indulge me won't you.

It's been a busy week round these parts. More storms, hot weather, me continuing with the predominant literary trope of this blog by complaining about having no air conditioning and adding to it by weeping with frustration while I tried to put together the pedestal fans that I had taken apart to clean, kindy concerts, more freaking ballet rehearsals, a sick baby, spending money we don't have on shit we don't need. You know the drill.

I think this post might call for some dot points again. And you know how I love a good dot point.

• I've been going to bed at 8 or 8.30 nearly every night. Because I am so bloody TIRED all the time. WHY AM I SO TIRED? My kids, these days, sleep through the night. They wake pretty early but I don't think that explains my bone weariness. I never used to be able to sleep during the day but at the moment I could sleep hours away. Hours I tell you. I fall asleep lying on the floor next to B's cot. The early bedtimes have rendered me almost incapable of keeping up with blogging, housework, tv viewing. But I do feel a bit less tired. I am guessing the absence of anything much that you could call actual exercise is not helping my energy levels. If I don't action some exercise soon I will become a human blancmange.

Me, earlier today.

• Apart from being quite sick with a fever last week, B is very cute at the moment. Some examples of his cuteness include;
• he says "fuck" instead of "truck". He also says "pig" instead of "big". So when we are out and about he is often heard shouting at the top of his lungs "pig fuck! Mummy PIG FUCK!". Amusing, no?
• When he wakes up in the morning and I walk into his room, he shouts at me, whilst standing in his cot - "Get DA WATER mummy! Get DA WATER!". Which is his way of requesting a drink.
• When I take off his sleeping bag, he often says "Hello feet!" to his appendages. CUTE!
• When I say to him "Love you!" he replies "Wah Woo!".
• When he has a sore anything he says "Sore tummy! Sore tummy!". Even if it isn't his tummy. I mean what is he, like, 2? OH RIGHT!
• When he DOES bang his head on something, which happens fairly regularly, he cries and says "Bump da HEAD!"
• When I tell him it is time to get out of the bath, he tells me sternly "No! Free minutes!" which is his way of demanding three minutes more.
• He is obsessed with M mowing the lawn and comments regularly throughout the day "Lawn. Mower. Boots. Hat. Gasses" (glasses). HEEHEE.

Here is the boy in question in his kindy photo.

• We went to P's kindy concert on Friday night. She and all her pre-kindergarten cronies were up on stage singing Christmas carols. Very cute. I could hardly see her because she was hidden behind a tall kid but what I could see was her staring at all the other kids and only occasionally joining in. Some would say easily distracted, I would say DEAD SET OBSERVANT and INTERESTED IN PEOPLE!

And the girl.

• Saturday we went on a wild goose chase to some non-existent Indian supermarket to purchase some AUTHENTIC spices for M to make dhal. I mentioned to him that I thought you could get some pretty bloody authentic spices at Woolies but he was not deterred. When we weren't successful in locating the supermarket, we decided to go to a fancy pants market type place at harbourtown and had lunch at the deli there, which was very nice indeed. Fancy pants gourmet food type things are M's Achilles heel, spending wise, so we then proceeded to buy a high end panettone, some salted capers, and some baklava. We were sorely tempted by all sorts of other ridiculously priced goodies but stopped there. Frankly we should be living on tins of baked beans and cat food like pensioners do, the way we are going.



File footage of a panettone. I think this is the same brand.  Weirdly this looks a lot like our floor too. Curious.

• After our spending spree, I then had to wait around outside P's ballet rehearsal, sweating for OVER AN HOUR AND A HALF. This time I was able to see P doing her thing through a window. Whilst all the small ballerinas faced the front doing the actions, P faced sideways, mostly staring at the other girls and occasionally getting the steps in. DEAD SET OBSERVANT, SEE? PRODIGY! I think she is clearly going to be an anthropologist or life painter.
• We threw caution to the wind for a second year running and put the Xmas tree up in November. We are going away next weekend so I figured what the hey. Didn't put the outdoor lights up because I got too tired. Energy levels low. MUST EXERCISE! MUST! Here's some file footage of Christmas Past if you are interested in it. Everything looks basically the same this year except messier because I retained limited creative control of the project and outsourced it to my junior colleagues. http://slapdashmama.blogspot.com.au/2012/11/poo-of-day-festivus-for-rest-of-us.html

• Even though I have been adhering to my stringent early bedtime curfews, I did manage to stay up late enough on Saturday night to watch 4 episodes of Season 2 of Breaking Bad. SO OBSESSED WITH IT. I know I am late to the party but better late than never, as they say.

• I really miss having a proper smart phone. I am at a loss. No easy access to a photographic record of my life. Therefore no easy access to photos for this blog. And don't get me started on Instagram. I mourn it. I must do something stat.

Anyway that's a wrap.

Better the Weber you know.

Today I'm writing about my BBQ. In keeping with today's Lounge theme. Which is BBQ. I know, I'm such a creative person.

Ole RoboMum is hosting today - check her post out and all the other peeps too!

So we have a BBQ. It's a Weber kettle arrangement. Not gas. Wood or heat beads.

We got it a few years ago. M was dead keen on getting this type. I wanted a gas BBQ. You know, so we could USE it and stuff. As it is, we have this bloody thing that you have to fire up at least eleventy hours before you want to eat, or there's nothing doing. The first time we used it we had friends over and we didn't get our laughing gears round our snags and chops until about 10pm.

I mean the whole bloody POINT of a barbie queue is to just, like, chuck a couple of steaks on and, you know, two minutes later you've got yourself a low carb dinner for minimum fuss!

Fucking disappointing frankly. It caused no end of tension between my beloved and I. Stupid thing.

It's somewhat better now we've realised that the strength of the Webber is as a sort of oven. You can cook a mean roast chook in it that's for certain. Still, we can cook a mean chook in our proper oven too so I'm still not totally convinced of its charms.

One of the endearing things about this particular Weber is that when we bought it, it came with a "gift with purchase". 

Observe...

This recipe book is one of the more hilarious things I've had the pleasure of owning. It is an Ode to the Weber. The authors are Hardcore Weber Devotees. THEY ARE WEBER EVANGELISTS!

Behold them in all their glory.

Brash young barbecue salesman meets home economics guru - and BAM - the magic happens!

I have a real fondness for this 1970s food aesthetic. Liberal use of glace cherries - TICK! Did you know you could bake cakes in a Webber? IS THERE NOTHING THOSE THINGS CAN'T DO?

You can even make a Bombe Alaska in a Weber. Or should I say - BOMBE KOSCIUSKO! BAM! SEE WHAT THEY DID THERE?!

Hardcore 1970s dinner party aesthetic. I LOVE IT SICK!

 The Webber did have its moment to shine when P was a baby, when we used it to dispose of a particularly heinous baby book that we owned.

Don't listen to those bossy free speech libertarian types, burning books can be fucking SATISFYING, particularly for crazed and sleep deprived parents.

Said baby book in said Weber. Parents beware. This book is farking crazy. I knew this photo would come in useful one day.

A picture of me at the time. To explain what might be construed as a SLIGHTLY hysterical decision. You know, to burn a book. POSSIBLY slightly cray cray.
Hey lady, nice eyebags! They so big you look like you goin' on VACATION!

The Weber will always have a place in my heart for this reason, despite its inadequacies.

The End.

Katie 180 Recipe. And a song!

One of my absolutely favourite blogs is Katie Rainbird's Katie 180. I LOVE IT SICK! Katie is a nutritionist and writes about the ins and outs of healthy food, and is not averse to a bit of scatalogical humour. She is as funny a blogger as ever there was - but when I read her, not only do I laugh, but I am edu-ma-cated!

Her recipes are eminently cook-able and TASTY. 

Katie's blog has been shortlisted in the Top 100 for the Kidspot Voices 2013 - you should all go and check it out.

I begged her to do a guest post recipe type thing on my blog because I am SHAMELESS. And even though she is very busy and so forth she made a recipe available to me.

I had made another recipe of hers a little while ago, and naturally Instagrammed photos of it. It was a zucchini pasta sauce. Except using my mother's philosophy that all vegetarian dishes taste better with bacon (or similar), I added chorizo. This was met with SCORN by Katie herself, however I think I have infiltrated her psyche because LOOK WHAT RECIPE SHE SENT ME!

CHORIZO PASTA! EVERYONE LOVES CHORIZO!

So, I actually got around to making it for din-dins the other night.

Here is photographic evidence.

Ingredients

Chorizo. What? It IS chorizo. You guys are SICK. KEEP IT CLEAN OK?

Child sized portion

Here's the recipe itself in the inimitable words of the lady herself...

From the esteemed desk of Katie180…

Dear Mrs Slapdash,

Please find one easy dinner recipe for your noshing pleasure.

Ingredients: (To serve two so multiply as needed.)

1 x good quality chorizo (please try to buy from a good deli rather than say, a supermarket one), finely sliced ~ as many thin slices as you can get.

1 x tin of organic diced tomatoes.

1 x Spanish onion, diced.

1 x teaspoon of raw sugar.

Baby spinach leaves, washed and shredded.

¼ cup of frozen peas ~ optional.

S&P to season.

Olive oil.

Pasta, whichever you prefer but I like to use long pasta.

Method:

Sweat onions in olive oil.

Add chorizo and crisp up a little then turn down heat. 

Stir through tomatoes and add the sugar, bring to a gentle simmer.

Reduce heat then pop lid on.

Cook pasta.

Once pasta is cooked, stir through spinach leaves and peas if using.

Season to taste.

Divide pasta between bowls and spoon over chorizo mixture.

This dish is one of my fall-back favourites, not for regular eating due to the use of processed meat, but I DO enjoy it when I make it and it is super quick and easy.

Chorizo keeps for ages in the fridge, so if you buy a couple in the groceries knowing you’re in for a busy week, they’ll be there in a few days ready to rock’n’roll.

Be sure to use lots of baby spinach as it reduces down considerably and it can kind of offset the naughtiness of the sausage!

If you’ve got kids who use their fingers not their forks probably best to use spirals or bowties.

Muchos love, Katie J

This was a great success, despite my usual slapdash approach, which meant that - 

a) I didn't buy nice chorizo from a nice deli and used some in a packet from Woolies, and
b) At the last minute I realised I had no spinach so I used extra peas and grated a zucchini in.

As I've said before to my critics, if I was more organised I'd have to change the name of the blog and we CANNOT HAVE THAT, now, can we?

In closure, I decided to write  adapt a song for Katie to express my feelings about this recipe. It is to be sung to the music of "Oh Mandy" by Barry Manilow. Or "Oh Margie" by well know songbird Homer Simpson.

Oh Katie,

Well, you came and you gave me a recipe,

For my little bloggie.

Oh Katie,

Well, you said to use spinach, I didn't

I hope you don't hate me!

Oh Katie.

Thank you so much Katie180. I wish you all of the good things! MWAH!

Cooking writers I have loved.

I was talking to some lady friends of mine the other day when discussion inevitably turned from Global Politics and Feminist Issues, to the making of the family dinners. My line of conversation was, as usual, moaning on about how I had lost my cooking mojo. I know, ho hum.

Yeah yeah, I hear you say, so she opens a tin of beans for the kids for dinner, ho ho, how amusing, oh yes we get it - SLAPDASH - yes, we get it, stop labouring the point already...

WELL guys if you would ACTUALLY let me get a word in, then I would be able to say that I was ALSO talking about how much I used to love to cook. OK? Ugh!

We were also talking about how great it is THESE DAYS how we can just GOOGLE recipes and look them up on Taste.com or whatever those recipe websites are.

Which THEN led us onto the subject of COOKING BOOKS and how much we all used to love them and how they are presumably going to become defunct, what with the RISE OF THE INTERNET, and all.

Which THEN made me think about my own beloved collection of cookery bookery.  Well, mine and M's. He has a prodigious collection himself.  In our courting days we used to spend the whole time cooking each other nice meals and eating them and drinking wine and stuff. Now we just drink.

Here's some miscellaneous thoughts on cookery bookery and cookery writery types for your reading pleasure.

This is the little bookshelf on the end of our kitchen bench wherein we store our cooking books. The bench itself is for storing sunglasses, discarded cardigans, plastic baskets full of assorted miscellaneous household detritus including pencils, notebooks, kindy paintings and fluff. OBVIOUSLY. Also, we have a kiddy gate. Get excited everyone.

I've definitely gone through a few fads cooking book wise but here's some of my consistent performers.

I've already told you lot how much I love Nigella. And that sometimes I am a conduit through which she channels her raw energy. She is my cookery muse. In fact I was inhabited by her body only last week when I spent a good few hours standing in the kitchen shoveling whole loaves of white bread spread with peanut paste into my mouth. Between you and me, I prefer it when she uses me for good not evil. Anyway this is her CLASSIC book that EVERYONE should get. Do it. Has a really good bit in it about cooking for kids too. Everyone who hates Nigella CAN SHOVE IT because I ADORE HER.

This is one of M's and we both love it sick. It is actually falling apart. I think Jill used to be food writer for The Guardian or something. Anyway I used her recipe for Anzac biscuits today, as I always do. I know they aren't hard but it is a real BALANCE of dry vs. wet ingredients, and we all know what happens when the BALANCE IS OUT OF WHACK. It is a veritable DISASTER OF EPIC PROPORTIONS. By that I mean, your bikkie doesn't stick together properly.

OK I should have put these next two up with Nigella but it's too hard to fiddle round with the pics now so we will MAKE DO.  Nigel Slater. I love him so much. I have this book....

...and this one. This is more recent. He has done quite a few. When I am feeling bleak I just flip through this one in particular and it never fails to cheer me the hell up. It has beautiful photos in it from his cool garden at his London house. I mean, you do kind of have to get over your jealousy of reading about how he just trips down the street and picks up odds and ends from fancy butchers and bakers and candlestickmakers when all we have in outer suburbia is Aldi and Woolworths but never mind. Also the recipes are good. And he is a great writer. He wrote a memoir of his early life called "Toast". I borrowed it from my cousin B. It is surprisingly sad and touching. Also he loves Nigella and she loves him. I KNOW! THE BEST!

I couldn't leave Stephanie out. This is THE BEST. M had an older edition but we snaffled this one up for a song when poor old Borders was closing down, and gave our old one to my mum. Beggars can't be chooser eh Mum? I'll thank you to be grateful. Anyway if you haven't got this then do yourselves a favour. It is organised by ingredient, so if you find yourself with a surplus of, say, mushrooms or lamb or tripe then you can look up a recipe for said ingredient. Bob's your uncle! Also it has useful things like a guide for converting measurements. Particularly useful for me at the moment because I broke our digital scales by immersing them in water to wash them. But don't tell M, I am playing dumb.

And speaking of fads, I present to you last, but definitely least, something from my youth.

Up yours Donna Hay. I used to love her so bad. I used to try and master the "Donna Hay spaghetti twirl". Oh how I yearned to twirl it like Donna. I bought her magazines and her cookbooks, even the Marie Claire ones. UNTIL I REALISED SOMETHING! They are crap. The recipes OFTEN don't work. I am sure they aren't tested. Also, I didn't like her on Masterchef. 

 So there you have it readers, some interesting tidbits from my brain to yours.

Do you still use cookbooks? Or the internet? Do you FREESTYLE it like my mum does? Or do you need a recipe for boiling an egg? Do you Donna Hay while the sun shines?

Tell me everything - and bon appetit!

Birthday Week.

GUYS I am so terribly guilty and apologetic that I have been so quiet on the blog front! I mean I know that you are all just constantly hanging out on the edge of your seats for regular updates from me.  Who wouldn't? I mean this stuff is RIVETING!


WARNING - This post contains ENDLESS REALLY BAD, LIKE REALLY, REALLY BAD IPHONE PHOTOS. OMG WHEN WILL I LEARN AND START USING A PROPER CAMERA!!!???

First things first. If you would be so kind as to look to your right you will see a button  "Vote for me now". If you feel so moved, I would be eternally grateful if you could hop over there and vote for me in the People's Choice Awards. I mean, there's only like 1000 entries or something so I AM A SHOE IN OBVIOUSLY! 

Please and thank you.

Anyway as you all know it was my birthday this week, and in case you missed it I drew the winners of the Mollie Day prizes!  Check it out if you want.

I got pressies.

I done got me some nice perfume from the kids and an attractive nightie and set of jarmies from the husband which were both very nice.

But I have to say the best loot came from my dear old parentals who are traditionally generous beyond measure with this stuff and didn't fail to impress.

Dad gave me money to buy - wait for it - MY VERY OWN LAPTOP COMPUTER! I KNOW! OMG!

So I done bought one.

It's an Asus something something. I like it. Downside is that it is running Windows 8.  WTF? Windows 8 you are freaking me out beyond WORDS and making me feel ANCIENT AND HOPELESS! WHY SO WEIRD WINDOWS 8? Didn't the success of Apple teach you ANYTHING MICROSOFT? EVER HEARD OF USER FRIENDLINESS INTUITIVE SHIT BLAH BLAH?

I've been raging at it.

Here's hoping I come to grips with it STAT or someone will suffer.  I might just write a VERY STRONGLY WORDED letter to a certain Mr Bill Gates outlining my displeasure.

Be afraid Bill.

Anyway, the other present of awesomeness was from my mum - money for a big ole fancy pants, trendy, the whole works hair cut.

Guys. Don't get freaked out (I mean I know I am a 33 year old, generously proportioned mother of two, respectable public servant and erstwhile librarian), but CHECK THIS OUT!

 

I got an UNDERCUT BABY! Just call me Rhianna. You can share my umbrella, ella, ella, any time you need to, any one of you.


My bloggie friend Kim from Falling Face First has written about her blossoming early-mid life crisis and its resulting pink hair action. I too am starting to rage against the dying of the light and saying HELL NO I WON'T GO gently into that good night.

Look it's a pretty small one but we all have to start somewhere. Maybe next time I will get some lopsided geometric hairstyle action too but first things first.

Another friend K has a group on FB called "F**K Yeah Girls with Short Hair - Oz" for fierce chicks like us who rock a short haircut. You should totes look her up and join.

So we came up to the Sunshine Coast to stay at the Slapdash Family Compound for Easter and I write to you from said Compound as we speak.  This meant we had some built in babysitting and this subsequently facilitated a DATE NIGHT for M and I to celebrate my birthday.  So we went to one of our favorite restaurants ever - The Spirit House, in Yandina. It's a Thai restaurant. A super dooper one.

We've been a few times for lunch but hadn't been there during the night before - just so gorgeous! I cannot rave enough!

Here's some random bad photography so you can feel like you were THERE TOO!

It's set around a little pond like thing and you walk along a path to get there, all lit with lanterns and "spirit houses".

As we walked along I remarked perceptively, "It really reminds me of THAILAND!". Who'd have thought, eh?

We had a cocktail.

And some champagne.

We ate spicy delights.  The end.

I hope that little rundown was as good for you as it was for me.

 Anyway it's been a nice week. We've even been to the beach. We met my friend K there with her two little children today.  As we were playing on the grass near the sand a TV reporter and camerman came up to us. They walked right past me and zoomed in on olive skinned, beach touseled hair K and asked her probing questions like "What do you think people like to DO AT THE BEACH ON GOOD FRIDAY?" and so forth. I'm not sure what they were hoping she'd say.  Perhaps they were angling for something like "Oh, we like to REENACT THE PASSION OF CHRIST FOR THE BEACHGOERS" or "We enjoy the beach at Easter because the sand in our jocks reminds us of CHRIST'S SUFFERING ON THE CROSS!". What they got was a lot of close ups of her baby A eating a hot cross bun covered in sand and grass.

After they'd got her comments and their 5 minute baby close up, they wandered off to find another attractive family to film.

Completely ignoring me and my offspring.

WTF!!?? The bloody cheek. DON'T THEY KNOW MY BABY IS THE CUTEST BABY EVER IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD????  I MEAN LOOK AT HIM!!!!

OK so maybe my outfit du jour wasn't screaming BEACH BEACH BEACH, what with my voluminous sun smart coverall, unshaven, pasty legs and Mum's old beach hat, but the kid has star potential at LEAST!.

How very dare they.  I almost shouted out after them "I say there! You with the camera! HAVEN'T YOU FORGOTTEN SOMEONE!!!???".

Anyway Happy Easter readers! Hope you never have to suffer the indignity of being ignored by a regional television station's camera crew. How ever will we live it down?

Until next time!

How to mend a broken heart.

Ok, I'm willing to admit that sometimes the whole 'slapdash' thing works against me.  Thank god there are some perfectionists out there or I would totes do something stupid like send my wedding invitations out with the wrong date on them,  and then have a hardcore Bridezilla meltdown in the shower (that may have involved screaming obscenities and/or crying) when I realised.

Oh wait, I DID DO THAT!  [Hangs head in shame].

Anyway, developing this theme a little more, today was Baby B's small family birthday partay.

In the name of keeping things square for the siblings, I decided to do the same kind of thing that we did for P's first bday, and that included, (you know what I'm going to say right!?) a HEART SHAPED BIRTHDAY CAKE!

Booyah.

In the interests of keeping things easy, I made everyone else bring a plate, and bought Woolies croissants to serve.  Simple!  All I had to do was make the cake.  Which I've done a bazillion times at least.

The heart tin I have is ENORMO.  So I do the same basic melt and mix butter cake recipe I use for everything, and make three times the normal recipe.

So this means when I make the heart cake I need 6 eggs.  When I opened the carton last night, I discovered I only had 5 eggs.  Mum was there, so I said "Oh SHIT A BRICK I've only got 5 eggs.  Mum, 5 eggs will be enough won't it? I'm supposed to have 6".

Mum said, "Yeah, she'll be right mate, no worries, she's apples, just shove the 5 eggs in it'll be right", and then I said "Yeah, I mean it's chocolate cake so there'll be cocoa in it which will make it a bit dry but she'll be right, 5 eggs will be HEAPS!  Who needs 6 eggs? Pah to you recipe" and other things along those lines.

So I merrily made it with 5 eggs.  Everything was going swimmingly and I was having another glass of red wine as the cake cooled on the stove top, and then I had to turn it out of the tin.

And this shit happened.

Insert NYPD blue music here - "Duht duhht!"

When it cracked I went through the seven stages of grieving, like you do when your heart is broken.

Shock - "What the FUCK is happening! I can't believe it, I have made this a million times! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING PEOPLE!"

Denial - "It's fine, it's just a small crack, no-one can see it, it's a perfect masterpiece flawless cake, yes, yes, yes it is....nice little cake, good cake..."

Anger - "Goddammn this thing it is RUINED and I am THROWING IT IN THE BIN AND BUYING ONE FROM WOOLIES, I am not kidding, I am losing it, it is going in the bin RIGHT NOW GAHHHHHHH!!!!"

Bargaining - "Come on little cakie wakie, I'm sorry I was so angry, I didn't mean it, we can make it work, please...!!""

Guilt - "Poor Baby B, I bought all the other shit for his party from crappy Woolies, I just wanted to make ONE PERFECT HOMEMADE THING FOR HIM AND NOW HIS WHOLE LIFE IS RUINED FOREVER AND HE WILL BE SCARRED FOR LIFE!!"

Depression - "I am such a crap mother, I can't cook to save myself, who am I, where am I, someone pour me a glass of woine, I'm having a moment..."

Acceptance and hope - "You know what! I think I can do it! Yes! It's working! Look everybody I AM KING OF ALL OF THE CAKES AND THE WHOLE WORLD AND EVERYTHING!!!!! SUCK THAT MARTHA STEWART!! BOOYAH!!"


Anyway, at some point during this whole rollercoaster of emotion I posted this pic on Instagram (yeah for social media!) and everyone said "Just glue that bitch together with icing, nobody will notice, ain't nobody got time for dat!" and so forth, so I didn't completely freak out til this morning when I realised we HAD NO ICING SUGAR.

"Duht duhht".

This slapdash gig sometimes comes at a price people.  My life is my art.

Anyway, before I had time to replicate my Bridezilla moment in the shower, Mum rushed off to the servo and came back with icing sugar out the whazoo, and I successfully glued the SHIT out of that broken heart until it looked like this.

Pheeeew!

Anyway after that I was exhausted and could have done with a lie down, but the show had to go on and actually we had a lovely time and Baby B was his usual chuckly self, so that's the main thing.

Ever had a cake fail? Ever saved a cake from the bin with mad icing skillz?  Had a broken heart?  Tell your old friend Slapsie...I won't judge.  Believe me.

Slapdash does suburbia.

I don't know about you lot, but I for one am passionate about supporting local providores, artisans and small businesses in my area, and I like to make a real effort to frequent the many creative and original restaurants, cafes, delicatessans and bars in my suburb.

It is just so important to encourage the eat local, buy local mentality!  Living this way helps reduce greenhouse gases, encourages a healthy lifestyle, and ensures people are kept gainfully employed.

I've decided to do a series dedicated to reviewing some of the diverse businesses and restaurants in my local area.  These are all places I can easily walk to from my house*.  I live in outer, outer suburbia, so just goes to show, you don't have to live in trendy hipsterville inner city suburbs to embrace the "buy local" philosophy!

What hidden gems will I discover!? Let's find out...

Slapdash does suburbia - First Edition

Now, although I usually cook our family meals from scratch using purely organic free-trade, BPA-free, low-GI, and low-fructose ingredients, sometimes we feel like a bit of a break! So every now and then, we order takeaway from one of our local eateries.  We are so LUCKY to have a wonderful choice. 

When we first built our architect-designed, passively heated, thatched cottage, beaten earth hobbit house (we got the idea from an episode of Grand Designs!), there were hardly ANY shops or eateries around.  How things have changed!

Recently an interesting little establishment has opened up just down the road from us.  It's got a really unusual name, I can't quite remember it - I think "Mac - something"? Anyway, I think it might be of Scottish origin but I couldn't be sure.  As you can imagine I was intrigued! With such a Scottish name, I was excited to think what sort of menu items they would serve up!  Perhaps they were a proponent of the school of "nose-to-tail" cooking? I'm not usually a fan of offal but I am willing to give it a go in the name of sustainability!  Perhaps it was more along the lines of ole Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's River Cottage?  Whatever, I was simply DYING for a chance to pop in and check it out.

Coming home late-ish from work tonight M and I decided I would duck out and pick something up for dinner after we'd fed the kids, so my chance had arrived at last!

When I got there, I was pleasantly surprised by the decor.  A fresh, modern look, with plenty of happy young families enjoying a meal together. I looked around for the menu and the wine list (for next time, if we dined in) and then noticed it was helpfully illuminated above the counter!  What a great idea.  I scanned it hastily, hoping to see the offerings I had hoped for, sadly I couldn't see any tongue, tripe or even haggis anywhere.  For a restaurant purporting to be of the Scottish persuasion, I felt this was quite poor.  No wine list either, or even beer. It must be BYO.

Still, I am always keen to give small artisan type establishments a go in order to give them some encouragement, so I decided to overlook this false advertising and asked the somewhat surly maitre d' what she would recommend to a first-time customer?  I'm sorry to say she gazed quite vacantly and moodily at me.  Embarrassed, I quickly said "I'll have what they're having then please!", gesturing to a well built couple next to me.

"Large Big Mac Meal and Large Quarter Pounder Value Meal comin' up then," she said huffily, and flounced around getting my food ready while I waited.  Happily, despite the ominous start to the experience, the meal was ready in no time flat!  She handed it over to me in quite a cute retro paper bag arrangement.  I bid her good night and headed home with my spoils, eager to share them with M!

When I got home I quickly unpacked the food, and was pleasantly surprised at their contents.  I had a sort of warm club sandwich, with sliced dill pickles, lettuce, a slice of salty yellow and two pieces of as yet unidentified well-done meat (perhaps it was nose-to-tail after all, I might have judged too quickly!) spread with a sort of mixture of tangy jus and aioli.  I had some pommes frites on the side.  It was such an unusual combination! Despite the well-done meat (usually a foodie no-no!), it was actually delicious.  The frites were particularly well salted.  I was also pleased to see a cola beverage came with it.  No wonder it is called a "Value Meal!"

M had a similar meal, but his club sandwich was smaller and also had what I think was Dijon mustard added.

So there you have it!   Despite my initial disappointment at the lack of offal on the menu, I was then pleasantly surprised to see that our club sandwiches did indeed contained a mystery meat!

Wine list - 0/10
Service - 4/10
Food - 9/10

And I never give perfect marks!

So let's all hope this little local business gets up off the ground.  I think they have HEAPS of potential, even if their staff lack a little enthusiasm. Look they aren't perfect but they are GIVING IT A GO and by jove I want to get behind them and support them like crazy!

I hope you've all been inspired to try something in your own local area!  You never know what you might find.  Go on, do something different, you won't regret it!

Til next time.

Bon appetit!

Linking up with Jess for -

*If I lived somewhere that believed in footpaths. But walking is for losers. Apparently.

Slapdash-issima.

Food, glorious food! La, lalala, custard! Food, glorious food! Something, ya dada, mustard!

I keep thinking of things to add to the litany of my areas of excellence as devised in this earlier blog post.  Something I left off the list was my particular talent for remembering song lyrics. Mind like a steal trap, people.

Anyway loyal readers, I write to you this afternoon from an undisclosed location, deep in the hills, where I have retreated to my bunker with a stockpile of hoarded tinned goods and bottled water*. The apocalyptic weather has everybody panicking. Rain, wind, tornadoes! The end of the world is surely nigh.  What's a girl to do in this weather but comfort cook and eat for Australia?

Despite all of my personal deficiencies, my friends, it is true that when the planets are aligned and the spirit (or a spirit as the case may be) moves me, I can achieve greatness.

Yesterday, I felt the spirit of Peg Bundy, my erstwhile Muse, leave my body, to be replaced by none other than the spirit of infamous cookery sexpot Nigella Lawson. I could tell it was her because I developed a sort of Nigella induced Tourettes condition. I was overcome with the urge to shout out random things like 'unctuous!' and 'luscious!' and 'full fat, added salt, midnight snack, motherfuckers!' in between barking like a dog and licking food suggestively off my fingers and tossing my chestnut main like a spirited filly.


I'm sure you will agree the likeness is quite striking.

I got my longsuffering husband M to take these pics while I was getting all Nigella on everyone's arses. I'm not sure that he's really caught the "Slapdash Mama" vision just yet but full marks to him for indulging me.

So, the reason I've got that food song in my head, and even taking into consideration my ambivalence (tending towards downright hostility)  to Australia Day jingoism, is that I do enjoy any chance I get to make (and eat) seasonally appropriate foodstuffs.

So, dear reader, I made lamingtons. This was no mean feat because it involves making a SPONGE CAKE which I actually hadn't ever done before.  Even though I was channelling Nigella, I actually used a Stephanie Alexander recipe.  But I reckon Nigella would be down with that shizz because she's always stealing borrowing other people's recipes anyway.  And I've got this kind of weird idea that celebrities are all friends, constantly dropping into each other's houses and chewing the fat over a few spritzers and a bowl of chips, so I'm sure they know each other and are totes bffs.

The aforementioned lamingtons.  VERY NICE thank you very much.  A feather-light sponge soaked in the requisite amount of chocolate icing, then rolled in the perfect amount of coconut. I think even a rusted on CWA member would have liked these babies.

And then, just for good measure, I rustled up a bit of balsamic vinegar marinaded butterflied lamb for dinner. 

It was good.  Very good.  Nigella, you know your stuff.

 Look, don't be jealous, not everyone can be as talented as I am.  Women want to be me, men want to be with me. And eat my lamb.  What can I say?

Are you possessed by any spirits? Like making seasonal treats? Have you caught my vision? If so, please return it at once!

Don't get washed away fellow Queenslanders.

Mwah.


*I may or may not actually be lying about this.

EDITED TO ADD: I just reached 10000 views! Exciting. Also am linking up with Alicia from One Mother Hen's Open Slather! Still haven't worked out buttons. Urgh.

Nigella. Hot in the city. Speed blogging.

I suppose one of the good things about being back at work is that my job is in the City, so I have access to cool places to wander round and spend my money at during lunch breaks.

Yesterday I bought a lovely blazer half price from Jigsaw. My work friend E took me there, I loved everything I saw. I've never bought anything from Jigsaw before but threw caution to the wind and was practically chucking money at them in the end. Navy blazer with white spots, I love you hard.

In case my descriptive word-pictures aren't enough.

I also bought Nigella's latest offering "Nigellissima". Have you been watching the series on ABC1?

I just love Nigella. I won't hear a bad word said against her. I love her food writing style, I love the recipes, I love her humour, I love the TV shows, I love her look, I love how she's had so much grief and loss in her life and still manages to enjoy the good stuff.  I especially love how she hams it up in the TV shows and plays up the sex-ay food unctuousnessness stuff, which I know drives some people batty.

I love it all.

She is inspirational. After reading through this new book I was totally overtaken by the urge to cook something different and tasty and Anglo-Italian.

Bastoncini de pesce. 

Bastoncini de pesce, deconstructed. Otherwise known as fish fingers. Chopped up.

HAHAHA!

So sue me, I'm tired and the kids love them.

Stay tuned for me actually cooking something from the actual cookbook rather than heating up some frozen fish sticks.  They were Jamie Oliver brand though. Practically gourmet.

Maybe I should cook every recipe from the book and then blog about it?? I TOTALLY THINK THAT HASN'T BEEN DONE BEFORE!??

What? Julia who?

Damnit. I need another gimmick.

Ideas in the comments please.

I'm speed blogging because I have a date to see Les Mis tonight. Woot!  Finally!

Keep your ingredients fresh people. You know I do.

Til tomorrow.

xx

Merry Christmas to my crew.

Merry Chrimbo everyone.

We've had a fat old time here at the Slapdash Family Compound.  We had M's family over for drinkies here to Mums place last night, and I did a hardcore last minute giftwrap and then stayed up til the wee small hours to go to midnight Christmas Eve service with my Daddy.  Lucky because CHRISTMAS NEARLY HAD TO BE CANCELLED! I KNOW!

I know what you are thinking re: last minute gift wrapping but I can explain.  I am not usually THAT slapdash.  My feeling "off colour" all week turned into a full blown catastrophic migraine on Friday night. I had to get a jab in the arm on Saturday afternoon and everything.  I was wondering why I couldn't focus or get anything done and felt so tired and depressed.  As I said on FB, total RESPECT for peeps who get them all the time.  How do you do it?  I could have wept from relief when the GP said there was a needle he could give me that would fix it.  Thank FUCK.  I thought I was dying.  M had to take over and make the apricot jam I had conceptualised as an "easy" alternative to buying gifts for the adults.  Oh what a fool was I...anyway the jam is very nice so that's something.  Dad even had to do an emergency run to our house to look after the kids, even while we were supposed to be driving to his place!  Let me tell you if you don't have your health you have nothing.  Nothing, my friends.

Anyway, I went to the Christmas Eve midnight service a) because I am a good Anglican and b) because Dad has been coerced into some kind of candle wrangling role up at his ole church so he had to be there to offside the lady he's accepting the baton from.   I say accepting in the loosest sense of the word.  Which seemed to consist of him sort of lurking around while she officiously fussed about shaking out robes and whatnot.  If her actions could speak they would have been saying "I am NOT READY to relinquish my VERY IMPORTANT CHURCHY ROLE and frankly YOU'LL HAVE TO PRISE THESE CANDLES FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS you upstart you".  Dad was very noble and withstood the liturgical attitude being directed his way.  As we left I could hear her lecturing him "And when you do the READING tomorrow you must be sure to SPEAK CLEARLY INTO THE MICROPHONE so that they HEAR you at the BACK OF THE CHURCH! CLEARLY, mind!".  Poor Dad, I wanted to shout "Love, I think he'll be right, he used to be a Deputy Principal and spent 90% of his time yelling at halls a thousand kids strong with or without a microphone.  No problems with vocal chords here", but I restrained myself.  Dad has a better grasp of the whole humility thing than I do.

So Dad came over to Mum's this morning to watch the smalls open their pressies.  They got tonnes as usual, with some hits and misses.  P's favourite pressie was a pair of Hello Kitty PJs I bought her at the last minute.  Lucky!  She promptly stripped down and wore the jim jams all day long.  She's wearing them in bed again now.  Cutie patootie.

P lounging in her new, er, lounge wear I spose.

 

We had a VERY HOT day and so of course ate a huge pork roast with all the proverbial trimmings.  No, but seriously it was delicious and then we had cherry sherry trifle and some of good old Heston Blumenthal's pud.  Oh yeah.  Hubba hubba.  I overcame my uncharacteristic migraine induced lack of appetite and did the dinner justice, more or less. 

Me at the feast with a small.

 

Mum at the feast.

Hope you all had a nice day.  I'm off to indulge in some Christmas Day Night festive "nibblings at the leftovers", as is tradition.

My good friend Gordon has popped over and he's going to help me eat....

 

...some of this.

Peace be with you my interweb family.