“Can you stop making weird stuff and just bake a freaking chocolate cake like a normal person” is what the Dr exclaimed when he came home from work and asked me what baked deliciousness was sitting on the bench. Having said that he had no problems scarfing down a few and claiming that they were amazing. Also, he should know better than anyone else that I’m not normal.
Today I have super special post for you. You know that my blog is called merci mama because my mama was the most incredible cook and in our house when I was growing up, every night she would cook us the most amazing meals that usually consisted of an entrée and a main of multiple dishes cooked to absolute perfection. Probably explains why I was a chubby kid. But once in a blue moon my dad would declare that he would be taking over the kitchen and cooking a feast for the entire family. You see, my dad can only cook one dish; Maltese rabbit stew. He cooks it incredibly well (and it seriously is the best rabbit I’ve eaten) but he should because it seriously is the only thing I have ever seen him cook in my 32 years.
The seafood/fish taco is a relatively new concept to me. Until the Mexican restaurant phenomenon that has recently taken over Melbourne, my experience of Mexican food was Old El Paso out of a box and few crappy renditions of Mexican food at poor excuses for Mexican restaurants. And then I had my first prawn taco when Mamasita’s in Melbourne opened and I have been craving it ever since.
The earth moved for these tortillas – literally…that’s how much they rock.
Actually, I tell a slight lie… the earth moved not just for these tortillas but for everyone in Melbourne tonight. As I was just about to write this post, the house started to shake, the windows were rattling and there was a deep rumbling sound that went on for about 30 seconds. I initially thought it was the neighbours again with their ‘doof doof’ music which normally vibrates through our house but that wasn’t it. Tonight we had an earthquake and to be honest, I think I peed in my pants a little. Once I realised that we were actually having an earthquake, I slightly started to panic. What do I do? Do I run outside? Do I hide in the bath? (no, that’s for fires I think), do I stand in a doorway? do I get down low and go go go? (nope, that’s fires again). By the time I had gone through the options, the earthquake had stopped. Yup, I’m awesome in a potential emergency situation…
Hola chico’s and chica’s this week we’re going Mexican. I know, I know… there’s no shortage of mexican restaurants in Melbourne now for everyone to enjoy but now that winter has well and truly settled in who wants to wait in a queue for a taco. Now you can settle yourself in front of the fire or whatever heating method your house employs and tuck into some delicious mehican that’s a cut above your old el paso.
It was almost exactly 2 years ago that I had my first packet of that sweet salty popcorn. I can’t remember the brand name, but you all know the one, you know the one in the green packet, yeah you do. I know a lot of you out there have had that experience of opening that sweet sweet…and salty packet and shoving handfuls of that popcorn into your mouth until BAM – the whole packet has magically vanished. By magically vanished, I mean you’ve shovelled the entire contents of that packet down your gob.
The other day I took a mid-week trip to IKEA (that’s a whole other story) to purchase a few goodies. The thing with IKEA is I always leave home knowing exactly what I need and then I get there and whoosh I walk in and I am overwhelmed with the amount of choice and the ridiculous amount of stuff that you can get for a ridiculously low price. Kid in a candy a store. Inevitably I walk in with the intention of buying a couple of picture frames and walk out with an overflowing trolley full of Swedish genius.
Sometimes I am completely deluded. The upshot is that I am completely aware that I am deluded (just so you know I’m not crazy) but I just choose to ignore my awareness. One such instance where I delude myself is when I make or order desserts or cakes with any sort of fruit or vegetable in it, I convince myself that I’m being healthy and making a good choice. Surely ordering the berry tart is better than ordering the chocolate éclair right?….yes yes, I hear you all scoffing, wagging your finger at me telling me that they still have a crap load of fat and sugar, blah blah blah. As I said, I am aware I just choose to ignore.
So it seems that everyone I know is either in Paris at the moment or heading to Paris during the European Summer. Ok… so not EVERYONE, but a significant proportion of people that I know are heading to the city of awesomeness and the point is that I’m not. I know I know, jealousy is not an attractive trait and I’m obviously excited for everyone that is getting to experience one of my favourite cities in the world and love that I get to share my favourite spots with them but I am incredibly green with envy that it’s not me who’s going.