highlyeccentric: Demon's Covenant - Kitchen!fail - I saw you put rice in the toaster (Demon's Covenant - kitchen!fail)
Sunday night I had a small assortment of people over for a two-course fondue dinner. As I'd managed to sleep until 1pm (don't ask), most of the day was taken up with preparations. K made almond macaroons; I soaked lentils for a lentil, basil and tomato salad side dish. Then a tedious process of grating cheeses, slicing breads and chopping chocolate.

The end products were thus:

Roast Pumpkin with cheese fondue. Which was a-fucking-mazing. The pumpkin turned a glorious bronze colour and smelled fantastic, and infused the fondue with a delightful sweet tang. I'd used gluten-free countrygrain bread for the bread layers, which worked remarkably well. And in the absence of anything identifying itself as gruyere, this was made on a mix of emmental and generic made-in-germany "swiss style cheese".

Slightly less heavy, Swiss Cheese Fondue, which caused me to buy brandy for the first time in my life. Again, not made with the recommended cheese, because although the extra food miles involved pain me a little, the extra cost in the Tasmanian-made version was alarming.

We served these with an assortment of sides: salami, very popular; potatoes, likewise; broccoli, mostly consumed by K; proscuitto, popular but i think it was overwhelmed; and pickles, not so popular. Obviously pumpkin could be scraped out of the former dish.

Then for dessert:

Choc-orange fondue, made on cointreu instead of brandy. Candied orange rinds were also provided, but not the macaroons from the recipe (K made Campion and Curtis' easier version).

And a variation on the Family Circle "Fudge Sauce for Ice-Cream", which I don't think I've ever chronicled here:

Instructions! )

I made the above on white chocolate, since we had a few blocks to use up. It was sickeningly sweet and amazing. Strawberries and marshmallows rounded off the dessert portion. We, that is I and Peta and Kiera, also drank two and a bit bottles of wine, including the "Shook me all night long Moscato" I've been saving for a suitably hideous occasion. It was in fact hideous, and Peta dubbed it 'Angus piss'.

This was all well and good, although I was sad to throw out the pumpkin at the end of the night. I suppose I could've turned the remaining fondue and pumpkin flesh into cheesy pumpkin mash, but we had ZERO FRIDGE SPACE left after storing the small side dish of cheese-and-GF-bread fondue and the leftover white wine fondue. And the chocolate ones, of course.

Just as well we did save the savoury ones, though, because K and I just had a most fantastic leftovers experience. You know those moments when you suddenly feel like you're living in someone's unrealistic fantasy of what young professional people do in their child-free evenings? Yeah. We fried mushrooms and chorizo and made toast and broccoli and reheated some roast veggies and a dish of fondue and stood around in the kitchen spearing small food on forks and laughing at what ridiculous foodies we are even when eating leftovers.

Photographic proof )

I think the chorizo and mushroom were better fondue sides than anything we came up with on Sunday, actually.
highlyeccentric: Green Eggs and Ham retitled: Fear of the Unknown Hinders Development of Informed Opinions (Fear of the unknown (green eggs and ham))
"It is only fitting. I'm having green biscuits and blue cheese"
highlyeccentric: Four years of college, and plenty of knowledge, have earnt me this USELESS degree! (Four years of college)
I require a housemate! Preferably a woman; Preferably queer-friendly; Preferably moderately quiet and nice to live with.

If you are such a person, or you know such a person: Observe this Gumtree posting.

Live with us! We bake lots of cake.
highlyeccentric: A green wing (wing)
Partly for [personal profile] tree_and_leaf, who likes to see where her flisties live, and partly Just Because:

Marrickville )

Also, plants! )
highlyeccentric: Manly cooking: Bradley James wielding a stick-mixer (Manly cooking)
Apparently there's a direct correlation between getting laid and culinary inventiveness! Win. Kris says she's happy to continue as my, ah, muse in return for delicious fudz.

Without further ado, I present to you: Strawberry Toffee Pancakes.

(Due credit: 'In the Kitchen', Campion and Curtis, for their blueberry pikelet recipe; Crepes of Wrath for the caramel idea, [personal profile] clavicular and [personal profile] kayloulee for nomming on variations of this recipe over the past few months.)

Dietary and accessibility notes )

General note: Unlike the Crepes of Wrath version I linked to, this pancake lacks structural integrity and won't make nice stacks. Using whole berries or bannans would help, as would using wheat flour. Personally I feel structural integrity is secondary to deliciousness.

Measurements are in Australian standards and ingredients/tools by common Australian terms.

Ingredients and method )
highlyeccentric: Slightly modified sign: all unFUCKed items will be cleared by friday afternoon. FUCK you. (All unfucked items will be discarded. Fu)
K, just now: Mark Willacy just tweeted that South Korea are going to start using 1.5m tall robot guards to patrol prisons. They'll use sensors to detect suicidal behaviours and violence.

... Somewhere, Michel Foucault is jerking off.
highlyeccentric: Sign: KFC, Holy Grail >>> (KFC and Holy Grail)
Today has been a mixture of unproductivity and ridiculousness, in the finest Highly & [personal profile] kayloulee tradition. At least I can honestly say there is no one I would rather be having this kind of routine fail with than K?

This morning:
- attempted to pick up parcel from Post Office, only to discover they've moved their opening hours, previously 10-12, to 9-11 on Saturdays.
- went and signed me up to the local library
- indulged in our favourite local pastime, poking around in junk shops and the Salvos. Ostensibly we were looking for a larger mixing bowl, but mostly, we were gawking at Cheap Junk. I predict we will still be doing this when we're seventy-odd, together or apart. We will probably buy hideous things and send them to our grandchildren. Or K's grandchildren, anyway.
- bought a stack of fruit and crackers and dip.

Then we, er, farted about for the afternoon. I most definitely did not write any thesis.

After a while I decided to make cookies. This is what the process looked like:
- roughly 5.15: decide to make cookies
- tidy up the cupboard, expel funky potato and associated smell
- commence beating butter.
- beaters short out and refuse to go.
- Amy marches up the road and buys more beaters.
- come home, sort out new beaters.
- Just as Amy gets the new beaters going, a text message bips.
- Ignore
- Finish mixing cookies
- Put one small batch in the oven
- Wash up
- Check phone
- It's asking if we're free to go to a concert. Check with K. MUST GO.
- It's just past 6pm. Concert is at 7.
- Go into a flurry of panic. Change clothes. Snack. Put away cooking stuff. Take cookies out of oven.
- Power-walk to station.
- Arrive 6.30.
- Train does not leave for 25 minutes.
- Give up. Go home.

On the bright side, the man downstairs gave us ice cream. At least we got something out of it?
highlyeccentric: Teacup - text: while there's tea there's hope (while there's tea there's hope)
Today we went to a picnic. Not just any picnic, but a *feminist* picnic.

We talked to Actual Humans. And I think I may have got sunburnt and I do seem to have become overheated, which is weird, for me. We thought about going to buy food, because we have very little of it, but that sort of ended after a grumpy encounter with Harris Farm.

Now I have to prep class for tomorrow and also learn Latin words.

Also I feel quite shitty. Don't know why. It's K's job to get overheated and mine to ruin baked goods, but clearly this week we have swapped.
highlyeccentric: Hyperbole and a half - that infamous Adulhood comic - character screaming CLEAN ALL THE THINGS (Clean ALL THE THINGS)
Many years ago, my first employer gave me a lovely Schaeffer pen with my name on it. Every so often I remember its existence and buy a new ballpoint refill for it. (This time I bought a parker refill by accident, whups).

HOWEVER, after first attempting to refill the matching *pencil* instead of the pen, I discovered that the top of the pen - the clicky clicky end which controls the retraction - is gummed up with ink from a previously exploded cartridge.

I have soaked it in water overnight and all the *visible* ink has been removed, but it still won't go clickyclicky like it ought. K suggested alcohol.

Says I: Ok, when I buy some more witch hazel I'll try that.
Says K: Or, y'know, just use alcohol. Use bacardi!
Says I: ... ok.

So I am now soaking my pen in diluted Bacardi. The kitchen smells a bit weird as a result.
highlyeccentric: Manly cooking: Bradley James wielding a stick-mixer (Manly cooking)

Yesterday, I cleaned the oven. It smelt gross. I let it air out for a while after wiping it down.

Today, K turned the oven on. The kitchen proceeded to smell of hellmouth. She turned the oven off and wiped it down with water and vinegar.

Now our kitchen smells like Satan 'N' Vinegar, flavour of the month.

Our mothers have decided that tonight is the night for both of them to be on the phone for hours (hopefully not to one another. If our parents are ganging up on us, we really *are* married).


ETA: got hold of my mother. Apparently this is not a spectacular Highly-and-K disaster, it's Perfectly Normal, Dear. We started by putting the door ajar and turning the oven on; then, on a whim, we started cooking potatoes. So hopefully we'll end up with potatoes that smell like Satan, and an oven that smells of potatoes. If that fails, maybe we'll try garlic! It works on vampires, it's got to work on Satan 'N' Vinegar Oven.

ETA2: News just in! Oven Cleaner + Vinegar + potatoes = SATAN AND VINEGAR CHIPS.

It's getting better. Sort of. Marginally. And in the meantime, we have invented medium-sized evil.
highlyeccentric: girls cuddling - Imagine Me And You (girl cuddles)
Today, we answered Sigmund Freud's eternal question, Was will das Weib?

Says K: Dear Mr Freud - after much experimentation, as a woman, I have determined that what I want most is orange pikelets with cinnamon sugar.
highlyeccentric: Teacup - text: while there's tea there's hope (while there's tea there's hope)
So I undertook to make my mother's lemon chicken recipe, which, holy glod, is the best food in the universe. IT TOOK BLOODY WELL FOREVER, and also trashed the kitchen in the process. And that was with K doing the fried-rice side of things.

I had forgotten the part where chinese food turns your kitchen into a COMPLETE WRECK. There's a *reason* mum rarely cooks this particular dish - she considers it unfair to make dad clean up after it.

But it was delicious.

I ate it too fast and am now full of noms and indigestion at once.
highlyeccentric: Manuscript illumination - courtiers throwing snowballs (medieval - everybody snowball)
So, K and I went shopping. The supermarket were playing "Billy Don't Be a Hero" as we finished up. K sings along for a while, and informs me that Billy does not, in fact, come back and marry the protagonist, but dies in battle instead. Which is to be expected from the genre. K debates, with herself, whether or not the song is on the Priscilla Queen of the Desert soundtrack.

On the way home:

K, humming "Billy Don't Be a Hero": It's really about performance... of, oh god, performance of masculinity.
Highly: Yahuh. It's like, are you going to be a man in a homosocial setting (and die!), or in a heteroromantic context?
K: It's like, it's like that GUY, the one who was killing everybody and then he holed up with his wife and all his mates were like "we don't respect you anymore, you're not killing anyone".
Highly, with some trepidation: ... I think you mean Erec.
K: That's the one! Erec et Enide, yeah!
Oh god, I shouldn't be ALLOWED.
Highly: Allowed what?
K: ANYTHING. I just analysed the MUSIC IN THE SUPERMARKET in the context of...
Highly, eyeballing her: MY THESIS.

In other news, this week is budget amnesty week! So I bought two DW paid accounts for a year, and wine, and, uh... paid the fridge bill, with K. That's not actually all that exciting. I *ought* to have more money leftover after liberating my savings, but I really don't. Two DW paid accounts is expensive, though, that's probably why.

In other news, the world is conspiring to expose me to Lady Gaga and it makes me want to go clubbing. WHERE IN SYDNEY AM I LIKELY TO FIND AN APPROPRIATE DOOSE OF LADY GAGA?
highlyeccentric: Firefley - Kaylee - text: "shiny" (Shiny)
It has a bath. Which mostly collects dirt and dust and crap, since none of us habitually take baths.*

But today I wanted a bath! (It was a vain attempt to make my knee stop hurting.) I managed to manufacture bubbles to boot, by tipping large globs of mysterious green-tea body wash into the tub.

And then I sailed [livejournal.com profile] sjazzmreow 's tug boats around for a while. They come in the same colour scheme as iDaleks.If iDaleks ever need tugboats they will use these tugboats.

* We SHOWER, ok? Why're you looking at us funny? Do you think we smell?

highlyeccentric: girls cuddling - Imagine Me And You (girl cuddles)
Me: Ohh, a shirt!
A shirt, a hat, and a whole pile of jelly!

Kayloulee: What are you DOING?

Me: I'm unpacking!

Kayloulee: What. The. Hell.

Me: I'm unpacking the Jelly Adventure bag!
... And this is where all the spoons went! If by all, you mean two.

(Earlier today, I had a spoons crisis. Despite the discovery of spoons in the Jelly Adventure bag, I have nonetheless unpacked nine hundred teaspoons and four desert spoons from my cutlery box, as a ward against future cutlery shortages.)


Mar. 30th, 2010 07:11 pm
highlyeccentric: Me, in a costume viking helmet - captioned Not A Viking Helmet (not a viking)
K: Highly, I have an article. "Reigning Queens in Medieval Europe: Where, when and how"
Highly: ... *breaks into song* It's reigning queens!
Sjazz: InmedievalEurope-
Highly: -it's reigning queens!
K: I hate you.
highlyeccentric: girls cuddling - Imagine Me And You (girl cuddles)
Sjazz: So what did you get up to today, [personal profile] kayloulee ?
K: Well, I did some reading; and I washed the kitchen floor and I did a load of laundry and I cleaned the bathroom!
Sjazz: Uh, wow! And how was your trip home, highly?
Me: Uh, good? My phone was refusing to receive text messages all day, though. And then when I got to Sydney I got this onslaught of text messages from Lucy telling me all about the disturbing dreams she had involving me. And a couple from K about what time I was getting home, and telling me that Sjazz is asleep so I should be quiet when I come in the door.
Sjazz, looking overcome: You did that? *gets up, goes around the table, clings to K* I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. You are an angel. WE ARE LIVING WITH AN ANGEL.
K: Well, you looked so tired when you got home. You looked like all you wanted to do, ever, was sleep.
Sjazz: I was. When I got in, I had to come into the kitchen with the milk I bought, and I was so tired, and I had to soak my shirt because I spilt bolognaise on it, and Kayloulee soaked it for me. She's so lovely!
Me: And bored.
K: I was bored, and you were really tired.
Sjazz: She's so lovely!
Me: we should keep her as our personal bored housewife!
K: Fuck off, I'm not your slave.
Sjazz: But you could be!
K, to me: You own a copy of the female eunuch. I shall read it and become emancipated!
Sjazz: Quick, hide the feminist literature!
K: Fine. I have... no, nevermind.
Me: Are you going to hide your feminist literature from us because we're oppressing you?
K, sulkily: I have the internet.

highlyeccentric: Firefley - Kaylee - text: "shiny" (Shiny)
I am not doing very much study.

My mother rescued a whole pile of cookbooks from my grandmother's infestation house (they used to belong to my cousin). I have acquired a steak cookbook and a microwave cookbook and a bundle of recipe cards for all sorts of things including "what's wrong with my baking?". Also at some point she is going to rescue (and then sterilise) a whole range of really good quality food storing jars and parcel them out between Joel and I. YAY JARS.

My mother is giving me tomato plants, and pots to re-pot them in. We should be able to grow them up the balcony railings. She is also giving me a pot suitable for [personal profile] kayloulee's parsely-growing ambitions. And I have plans to grow CARROTS. And maybe petunias, mum has petunias and they're really scarily bright. I could get a rectangular pot and grow a petunia rainbow?

Mum also has a possibly-capsicum and a probably-some-kind-of-melon which she thought of giving to me, but they'd be too hard to carry on the train. We also came up with an exciting gardening plan which involved just grabbing some compost and watering it and seeing what happened (that's how come she has possibly-capsicum in her petunia bed), but compost would be kind of weird to carry on the train.

Why yes, I do intend to carry tomato plants on the train. I shall carry them with dignity and aplomb and all the ceremony they deserve. Tomato/Train FTW.

It is a bad sign for my gardening ambitions that I forgot to water the nom nom plant before I left. (Known to Lucy as Chronos and to K as Godiva, and to me as The Nom Nom Plant, it is carnivorous, and has a delicate constitution.)

highlyeccentric: Arthur (BBC Merlin) - text: "SRSLY" (SRSLY)
I hate everything. I am not ALIVE, I am existing in MYSTERIOUS FLATPACK HELL.

As of 5pm this afternoon, K has a bookshelf. As of 11:30 this evening, I have a piece of bright red useless which OUGHT to be a filing cabinet.

Sjazz has kept extensive records of this evenings' work.

KYLEE: Aha! This goes here!
AMY: Yes, but that still doesn't answer the question of what the fuck are these things and what the fuck are we supposed to do with them.

STELLA: How do you spell "filing"?


highlyeccentric: Sign on Little Queen St - One Way both directions (Default)

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