I feel as though my life lately has been controlled by the schedule of baking bread. Folding and resting and folding and resting, proving, baking, toasting, eating, turning the stale bits into croutons, each time learning something new about the whole process. I've been budding bits of my sourdough starter and forcing it onto my friends so that we can talk about bread. I've forsaken all other . . .
Argh, Christmas is nearly here! What happened to this year?! Christmas here in Australia is simply not the fairytale that I've always imagined it to be for the Northern Hemisphere. It's hard to be excited about roasting a turkey in the middle of an Australian summer. There are no woolly jumpers to be seen, definitely no snow-topped rooves. It's mainly about drinking the coldest beer you can find, . . .
Kitchen confession #308: Today I made chocolate mousse. When I had finished piping the mousse into all the glasses, I placed the piping tip into my mouth and piped the leftover mousse in my mouth, swallowing continuously so I could continue the flow of mousse. Then I put my hand right into the top of the piping bag and just licked what I could from my hand. Then when Maths dude got home I told him . . .
It's been raining solidly for two days in Brisbane. Cups of tea consumed: around 24. Time spent in pyjamas under blanket on the couch: at least six hours. Brownies baked: 9 (12, really, if I had cut them into smaller, more sensible slices, but that's not my vibe). I feel like a brownie recipe is something every baking blog needs to have up its sleeve. Just like every good bartender needs . . .