Usually I keep my blog strictly out of my personal life, maybe except the banalities, but today I feel like dishing something very personal, the most romantic thing I've ever had someone say to me..
Yesterday it was 34 °C, not a cloud in sight. second day of the sales. We had sent our current couchsurfer out the door to explore Antwerp, and were going to spend a day together (Jolan and I). In the spirit of "hey, let's keep our relationship fresh" I suggested we do some baking. Taking into account the skill of my assistant, I decided on Breadpudding. Huzzah, the decision was made, the twinkle of anticipation in Jolan's eye combined with the sigh of 'she's going to make me do not-fun stuff ' momentarily washed over his face. I raced to the computer to google the recipe. Yay! Everything in the recipe was already in the fridge/cupboard! Suddenly it dawned on me, the kitchen scales was broken. Faintly beeping every time we put in a battery, but otherwise giving no intention of doing its job. I frowned, Jolan suggested we go get another one. 34°C, Sales, Meir - Mental! We did a bit of discussing, he was for, I was against. Finally he hugged me close, looked me in the eye and said, "You're the only one I'd ever go out and buy a kitchen scales with." He knows I can't resist hilarious romantic babble.
The Breadpudding is actually delicious! If anyone wants the recipe:
Preheat the oven at 200°C and butter a large but low ovenproof dish. Heat 500ml milk together with 200g of caster sugar and 80g of vanilla sugar in the microwave for 2 mins. Add 300g of old but not mouldy bread in small pieces. Leave to soak and mash up until paste-like. Add an apple, sliced thinly and cut into small pieces, some cinnamon and 5 beaten eggs. Stir. Pour the mix into the buttered ovenproof dish. Leave 30mins in the oven. Turn the Breadpudding onto a large plate. Spread some melted chocolate, icing or a combination of the two on it.
As always the key to composing a piece of ridiculous profoundness is the balance. You could be telling an anecdote about an orange living in a molehill cycling on a donkey but the symbolic behind it must be something like burying (molehill) your happiness (orange) because you are trying to do something which won't succeed (cycling on a donkey). I won't bother translating the following: a penguin wandered on a cloud to India tasting tapas made of cheese. He arrived seeking an anti-mosquito duvet while trampling on forgetfulness. Through the swarm of penguins he could see a vision of purple, a genius of colour. He decided to unleash his inner motorbike and seize the purple. He started moving, and never stopped.
I am considering adding my children's stories here. But not right now.
01-07-2010 om 15:07
geschreven door sannego
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- Gemiddelde waardering: 0/5 - (0 Stemmen) Tags:pengiun india tapa purple profound ridiculous
Usually I keep my blog strictly out of my personal life, maybe except the banalities, but today I feel like dishing something very personal, the most romantic thing I've ever had someone say to me..
