Posts by Jacqui Dunn
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With haricot beans I prefer a Greek recipe, Fasolatha, which is vegetarian
Would so love to have that recipe. We're mostly vego here, so pork is out. Care to share?
My mother was hopeless at making pav. She'd give it a go every Christmas, and present us with a piece of toffee, half an inch high, with lots of whipped cream on top. My auntie, on the other hand, made pavs that were sheer delight, all marshmallow and a good six inches high. But Mum made a baked cheese cake once that I still remember - it had nine eggs in it, was marbled with chocolate, and I swear, a square inch of the thing would sustain a grown man for a day, it was so rich. And Mum was really good at scones, and a loaf called Bermaline. Anyone had that?
Actually, I've got to stop rewinding and reading what you women (and men) are writing. I swear I'm putting on weight by devouring the words!
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Oh, I think the word that has resonated with me a lot this year is relaxed, as in "Prime Minister John Key says he is....." about, well, everything really, so may I please put in a (late) nomination?
Relaxed. Relaxed . Relaxed. Relaxed
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Random Play: Alt.Republic: The rolling mall, in reply to Sacha,
Or tuk-tuks. Pedal-powered, of course!
I used to live in Grove Rd, and every year around Christmas we'd be awake until the wee small hours as carloads of shoppers would park their cars outside our house, slamming doors to walk to the mall for the midnight sales, only to return hours later and repeat the process.
Avondale's noisy, but at least it's constant.
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If the almonds were slithered instead of chopped I might have bought it.
Those slippery little varmints!
Actually, I worried (on re-reading, as promised earlier) that your poor little 16 year-old body was expected to expend so much energy with too few calories. It's no wonder you craved cake! You didn't say, but I presume, that the bussed-in audience didn't bring any cake with them. Bugger.
And on the subject: Louise cake. Just suddenly had a craving.
And pudding: the wonder of the Fielder's Recipe Book which was Lemon Cheese Pudding. I was always begging my mother to make it, but could never remember what it was called. "Can you make that pudding with the sponge on top and the lemon sauce underneath?" "Can't!" she'd say. "Haven't got any lemons/eggs (this in the days when there was an "egg season" - before battery hens were thought of)". When I discovered as an adult the name of the recipe, I made it. Blech! Tooooo sweeeetttttt! Cut the sugar content down to half. Still very sweet. But oh so good.
Interesting about the sweetness and North American cookery. I've googled up a few recipes, such as boston baked beans, and included molasses, as required, but found it too sweet. I suspect that I'm one of those people who much prefer savoury. Or very small amounts of sweet things. Like small muffins. I can't stand the loaves most cafes sell as muffins. There was a very good French-taught pastrychef who had a shop across the road from work. She made afghans. They were about 5cms in diameter, and had a tiny blob of chocolate icing. I loved them! Had one every day with my morning coffee. Until after the Christmas break one year I discovered she'd shut up shop. By then, I had to have an afghan every day with my coffee, or I couldn't do any work, so away I went, searching. Found an afghan - double the size, flat as a pancake, with the top covered with sickly chocolate icing about 5mms thick, and it was ghastly.
Rave, rave......:)
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Hard News: What about that Welfare…, in reply to Isabel Hitchings,
It's a downward spiral - being overlooked for work when you have hopes of getting something, even if it's not exactly the job of your dreams - is so depressing. After a while, there's a feeling of "why bother? I feel bad enough as it is".
My business had failed rather badly - I proved absolutely that I am not a businesswoman - and I was in debt. I felt so demoralized I couldn't talk to anyone about what happened without dissolving into tears. Probably wasn't a great job prospect anyway!
OK now, though :)) But my heart goes out to anyone stuck in the mire. After a while, the feeling of being a failure is with you most of the time. Knowing that there are probably dozens, if not hundreds of others applying for the same job, especially after a few knockbacks, does not give a person much in the way of self-confidence.
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This morning's Herald has this about the possible too-fast methane build-up.
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Meanwhile lets help the 99% who do deserve help.
…and who want to work. I spent a bit of time on the dole, at my great age, when I just couldn’t find any work. Applied for jobs I was qualified for, but never even got an interview. It was soul destroying. Numbing. And the amount I got from Winz was so pathetic, it didn’t go anywhere near what a reasonable person needs in order to live. It was probably the most demeaning, humiliating time I’ve ever had in my (previously) productive working life.
If someone doesn’t want to work, and is content to live on the pittance Winz gives them, good luck to them! Just leave the poor buggers who can’t find jobs, or have kids at home, or are ill, alone.
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Hard News: Where nature may win, in reply to Matthew Poole,
Absolutely.
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Sally, I do so like your writing.
I plan to read this again - today I'm too sad to really appreciate it.
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I found it interesting that the CEO was found to be more "trustworthy" (can't remember exactly how it was put, and apologize for misquoting anyone) than Knowles. My feeling when I watched was that Knowles was able (because of being in charge and therefore expected to keep all information utterly factual, and as unemotional as one would expect from a professional) to do just that, whereas Mr Whittall was probably already grieving, but still hoping for a miracle.