Cauliflower, currant and pistachio salad

Yesterday at work I wore a long sleeved top, a long cowl neck woollen sleeveless top and a jacket: I was cold. On the bottom, I wore a flimsy skirt, bare legs and flat open shoes. Not so cold after all. I couldn't work the weather out and so dressed for all seasons: winter on top, summer on the bottom. I was planning on a gust of icy wind hitting my upper body alone, of course.

It's good in a way: I'm dying to buy a new pair of boots and some new woollen pants for work. But it's meant to be a frugal fortnight in our house and those two items do not make on the list of essential items to be purchased. At least I can hold out until the chill really hits.

The plate

Have I ever told you about my brother Paul? I'm getting like my Mum, I can't remember if I've told you stories before. Paul's my genius little brother. He basically knows, like, everything. What he doesn't know isn't worth knowing (sorry macrame and needlepoint).

When we were growing up, Paul was like our little ginger doll we all doted over. Except for the times we tortured him. Once, when Mum was busy inside, we convinced Paul to hop into a yabby basket that couldn't have been more than 40cm x 30cm in size. We strung it up on the washing line and left him hanging there, running off to play in the front yard, him screaming in our wake. Now that would be evil enough if the washing line didn't hang over a 2 metre drop. To a three year old boy, that's like a sheer 1,000 metre cliff face. Mum looked at us all a little differently after that day.

Anchovy straws

In my wardrobe, I have a black dress hanging that will never sit on my skin again. It's light and billowy and sits just right on my body. Black's my favourite colour, whether it's a colour or not. This dress, to me, has it all.

Unfortunately, no one else seems to like that dress. Too big, too black, the neckline is all wrong. Isn't it funny how you can look in the mirror and see something entirely different to other people? Well, one day, I wish I had listened to those naysayers. It was my beautiful friends Flemmo and Hester's engagement party. Matt and I made the trek over the other side of town for the event.

Brown sugar meringues with roasted rhubarb

It's been rough. Real rough.

I'm working my way out of a haze of (excuse the French) snot and sleep. Normally a cold, for me, goes something like this: sore throat for 24 hours, runny nose 48 hours and generally light crapiness for another 24. That's four days of illness, two days off work at the most. I've had six straight days now of intense Crapfest-3000 cold.

I've done it all: water, soup, chillies, ginger, garlic. I made chicken with 40 cloves of garlic, for god's sake. It didn't make a dent in my snot supply. Gross. Sorry. I'm just fed up.

Sorry for the radio silence

I've been a runny-nosed mess over the last coupla days. A sweaty maiden in a sea of tissues. Impersonating at least three of the seven dwarves: Sleepy, Sneezy and Dopey. If my couch were an airplane seat, I'd be in London by now.

As a consequence, there's been no baking in the Bennetto household. Day 1 I ate sensibly: porridge, veggie soup and a chilli pasta for dinner. Loads of water. It did nothing so I decided my Day 2 diet would be cheezels and orange juice. I'll admit it: I feel worse: salty, and like a layer of skin has been scrubbed from my mouth. Gorgeous.

I went to my doctor. It was that obligatory visit when you know going to work will be a write off, but you need a certificate. A virus, hopefully coming to an end. A day or two of romantic comedies, trash magazines and tissues on the couch and I will be fine.

So the posts will resume shortly. In the meantime, I wish everyone the best on both sides of the world. Hayfever season and flu season are in full swing. Live long and prosper, babes.

Loot soup

Saturday just gone was one of those stellar days you dream of when you're planning a slow weekend. Wake up, mooch around the house for an hour or so and head out to the nearest Farmer's Market. I hit up Fairfield and had a funny feeling in my bones I'd see my buddy Scott.

So it was as natural as could be when I saw the man wandering up the street with an armful of groceries. He kindly escorted me to the markets and was perfectly patient as I fondled every pumpkin, smelled the garlic and squeezed each oranges. I'm nothing if not a tactile shopper.

Sponge cake with creme patisserie and chocolate glaze

I'm sorry. Yesterday did not happen well for me. No major disasters, mind. Just an intense tiredness that I could not shake all day. I busted out my longest (albeit slowest) run ever on Sunday and I'm pretty sure I didn't drink enough water. A late night watching Eurovision today made for an exceptionally achy day.

So today's post is a cheat post. All I want to do is climb into bed, close my eyes and nod off. I haven't felt like this in months. Months, I tells ya.

When I get tired like this, all I can do is whinge, breathe loudly and eat. Today I managed to scoff about six pieces of fruit, a bag of popcorn intended for five people, a chocolate frog, vegetable soup and takeaway curry for dinner. None of these servings were small either. No matter: run in the morning and all will be right in the world.

But fear not - the recipe's still a corker. It's just some old components re-imagined into a new concoction. Look, even my words are vaguely making sense. I said vaguely, right? It's a three way you'll be totally into: creme patisserie, chocolate glaze and sponge cake. Ain't nuthin wrong with that combo, amiright?

I whipped up this cake for a workmate's birthday recently. My one hint? Make this on the day you intend to serve it and do not leave it out of the fridge for too long. Oh and don't ride a bike with it in your basket. That was like three hints, right there. You're welcome.

Short. Sweet. Recipe below:

Ingredients

2 blowaway sponges
Creme patisserie
1 tsp gelatine, soaked in 2 tbsp cold water
1/4 cup cream
300ml cream, extra
Chocolate glaze

Slice both sponges in half horizontally. Heat the 1/4 cup of cream and add to the gelatine. Stir until dissolved. Whip the 300ml cream until soft peaks form and add the gelatine. Fold through the creme patisserie. Refrigerate overnight.

Spoon 1/3 of the creme patisserie in between the bottom two layers of sponge. Repeat for the next two layers of sponge.

Top with the chocolate glaze, drizzling over the top and sides.