It's a knockout!

I decided to try a new boxing class tonight. I am, as the Brazilians say "on a regime" and the relentlessly unchanging PCYC boxing class was sapping my motivation. So I went to the AIS, which costs three dollars more.

I was happy about every one of those three hundred cents when I realised the class was next to a big pack of giantic buff teenage boys doing a "beep test"* as part of the AFL draft camp. I can assure you all that the future of AFL appears to be in safe hands. And thighs. Yes, thighs. I could go on a lot more about teenage totty but I fear what those googlepervs will make of it. Once they get tired of "husbang watching wife getting fuck", "sister loves my cock" and "men pashing".

Incidentally, I would also be very glad for any explanation as how crazybrave happens to rock up No. 2 on this classy string. The porn merchants must not care enough to try.


* Sadly, a "beep test" is not quite as exciting as the name suggests.

Business 101

Sage, a couple of weeks off turning three, attended his first business meeting today. Of course, he had to go and announce he'd done a poo, didn't he? Fortunately for me he'd done it in the toilet.

And you need not think I'm unaware of the extreme lameness of this post. But goddamit it was getting embarrassing and I had to post something. So there you go - toddler poo. Happy now?

I'll be back

when the laptop is fixed.

*sniffs* I've had a little holiday.

You may chose to amuse yourself watching Eric convey an emotion in the meantime (and don't miss "Who's your daddy?").

ciao!

EOMEOTE # 10 - You Slack Tart!

I've been very slack on the Egg On Toast End of Month Extravaganza-ing, but I blame a deceased digicam. It has now been replaced by a bright shiny new one, and bright shiny keen-ness.

I realise that I am perhaps overstretching the whole "egg on toast" concept here - but this was going in the oven and I wanted to show off my marble pastry board get back in the swim of things. And it does fulfil the slackness part of the original vision.

This recipe is an adaptation - pastry by Nigella Lawson, and slackified custard by Stephanie Alexander. Nigella is tops for the cook-in-17-parts recipe, which is a gift to poncy foodheads with small children. For the pastry:

Sift (or not) 120 grams flour and 30 grams icing sugar into a bowl and add 80 grams butter cut in little chunks. Bung in the freezer for ten minutes, or several hours in the fridge, whichever is more convenient.

Earlier in the day you will have faced off a broody chook wearing this expression and stolen the eggs from under her:




















Beat a purloined egg yolk with half a teaspoon of pure vanilla extract and a tablespoon of iced water. Bung floury butter into the food processer on a slow speed until it looks like fine breadcrumbs. Then pour eggy stuff in, turn on, and add more iced water in a miserly fashion until it more or less coheres. Less, actually. Tip huge crumby mess onto board and make a disc, then wrap it in a plastic bag and stick it in the fridge for the few hours it takes to get back to it.

Roll it out on the glorious marble pastry board your delightful parents in law gave you for Christmas. Pause to think warm thoughts about them. Roll it thin enough to fit the dish you're going to use - a 20 cm one is good.

















See how I've rolled the beautiful marble pin over the edge to make it neat and pretty? Don't do that. Leave it long and weird and snap the dangly bits off later. Wish I had. Whack in some baking paper and those weird beans you never got round to eating that you now use for baking weights. Put it in the oven preheated to about 180-190 degrees for about 15 minutes or until it smells ready; turn the oven down to 170.

While it's in the oven, you've beaten two eggs and four egg yolks with three tablespoons of vanilla sugar and a cup and a half of cream. Yep, full fat come-to-mama cream. Just have a small slice, OK, but put the proper cream in.

You don't need to paint the pastry case with egg white, or cool it, or do anything other than remove the beans and paper, carry it back to the oven and then pour the eggy goodness into the case while it's on the pulled-out oven shelf. And don't be tight. Chuck some eggy goodness away (or give it to the dog, which is what I did) rather than overfill the case. Grate some nutmeg on the top (which will also pop any little eggy goodness bubbles that may be troubling your inner food stylist). Then put it in the oven for about 30ish minutes until it's firmish. Don't eat it until it's nearly cold, or eat it the next day without refrigerating it.



Do you not love the orange formica! Renting does wonders for the decor, I find.


It's not the prettiest custard tart you'll ever see, but it's ludicrously easy and will bring smiles to the faces of all who scoff it.

Jeanne at Cook sister! has the lowdown. Or will have soon.

And if you want to read a blogger write beautifully about food, rather than just arsing about, check out Perth's own anthony, the man that cooks.