Can you believe this thing? It’s monstrously pretty I’m am a tiny bit concerned that I might have used up all my femininity in creating this tower of floral pinkness. Although, this is unlikely given that I am also excitedly considering knitting myself a jersey that looks very much like this vacherin (or perhaps it would make for a sensational hat).
Good recipes, like good sci-fi and fantasy novels, tend to come in a series. Once you fall for a flavour combination it can be difficult to move on. This is recipe is the third instalment in my “Spiced Pear” trilogy (although I expect, in time, there are likely to be prequels and sequels).
This week-end I discovered that the tear-jerking Dove campaign, “You are More Beautiful Than You Think You Are” will have little relevance for women wearing their own home-made snoods. I made one this week-end (my first knitting project since childhood) and I couldn’t possibly think of myself as better looking. It was difficult for me to find time to write this post between modelling it up and down the streets of Cape Town (with my best best beauty- queen- wave) and bullying my loved ones into helping me immortalise it in photographs. I have been greeting strangers, visiting old friends and attending all kinds of social events that I would ordinarily avoid- a traveling exhibition of my tube of knitting.
I once entered the organisation phase of a wedding as a bridesmaid but ended up attending the the event with the lowly title of “guest”. Oh my! I have just gasped in shock at my own admission, letting a piece of my breakfast pastry (I would not dare attempt such a confession without the comfort of some butter) fall out of my mouth onto the keyboard of my laptop. Poor me, poor bride… poor laptop!
After you turn 30 hangovers are truly brutal. Today’s was made up of all kinds of the cruelest symptoms: shakiness, insomnia, shame induced cringing, a sort of energetic kind of guilt and the taste of how I imagine the floor of a seedy bar to taste in my mouth.
Boy, are these buns delicious: the subtle background of spice brings these flavours together to make for a grown-up yet sweet and deeply comforting experience. I chose to serve this to my coolest and most excitingly trousered friends because the addition of one of Cape Town’s favourite local “craft” brewery’s stout makes these buns as hip as they are delicious.
This has nothing to do with the content of this post other than it is delightful.
Some of us fantasize about our ideal head cold the way that other, more gallant types fantasize about their dream holiday. Even your average head cold brings countless delights to those with an appreciative attitude. The pleasure begins with the thrill of diagnosis. Ah yes, the great pleasure that is guessing and speculating in matters medical. I have spent the most fulfilling and charming afternoons gathered with friends engaged in this pursuit- joyfully hypothesizing and gladly offering our ill-informed opinions on the cause of a vague and underspecified symptom of a member of our gathering.