Showing posts with label Patriotism;. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Patriotism;. Show all posts

Sunday, January 27, 2013

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.

Friday, January 25, 2013

'Straylia Day. Utes. Chopsticks. The Silver Budgie.

G'day my fellow 'straylians.  Gettin' pumped for 'straylia Day? Me too! I'm fully sick amped to the max and plan to get plastered whilst wearing the 'straylian Flag as a cape and harrassing some New 'straylians whilst watching Today Tonight and eating some prawns and wearing pluggers with the boxing kangaroo on them.

Es vous?

We've got a new landline, after our having-mobiles-only-cost-cutting-measure was declared a failure, shrilly and vociferously, by yours truly.  Unfortunately I keep getting calls from people looking for a ute hire business.  Which, quelle surprise, is not our thing. Some of these people are sounding vaguely annoyed at me when I explain, no, this isn't a Ute Hire Establishment, it's a private household. One woman said huffily, " Well, that's VERY helpful!" before hanging up.

Look, I'm sorry lady but the best I can do is loan you the Suzuki Swift one arvo for a small fee but I'm betting it's not what you're after either. I mean, you can't even get your shopping in the boot when you come out and realise you've left the pram in it. Trust me. I've been there. Lots of times.  Perhaps the spate of calls is due to the proximity to Australia Day (tomorrow).  The Bogans of Suburbia have been restless tonight, with burnouts aplenty.  I'm wondering if some of the utes have been hired for this express purpose?  I think possibly.  As I write the silence is again being shattered by sirens, perhaps chasing the burnout perpetrators.  Go get 'em Fun Busters! You have my full support.

In other interesting developments, apparently P can use chopsticks now. WTF. I can't even do that shit. I mean, the kid spends half her life throwing food round the house, getting spaghetti in her hair and nose and every available orifice and shoveling it all in with her bare hands, and we go to sushi train like twice ever and all of a sudden she's all, oh yeah hey Mum, so, whatever, like I can totally use chopsticks now, what of it? Can't you? Urgh Mum and Dad you are so embarrassing the way your sushi keeps shooting out from between your implements, what are you, special needs or something?

Anyway in the spirit of Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oy, Oy, Oy, I feel compelled to post this ancient photo of moi with a great Australian, our former glorious leader, Prime Minister Bob Hawke, aka the Silver Budgie.  Just because I've been looking for an excuse.

His skin was like a leather lounge suite, his hair like spun, um, steel wool? No Blanche that day I'm afraid, Bob was ALL BUSINESS.  Even when my colleague Z cheekily mentioned these photos.
On that note, fellow patriots, I bid you farewell. For now.
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