So I don’t know about you guys but the men (namely the Dr and my dad) in my life are ridiculously hard to buy gifts for. Every time a birthday, anniversary, christmas etc rolls around, I try to get organised and start thinking about what amazing gift I am going to surprise them with. Then my stress levels increase, I can’t think of anything. Why can’t they just be into technology and then I could just get them the latest thingamabob of whatever’s going around, but they’re not.
I feel like in the relatively short time that I’ve been blogging, I’ve posted quite a few recipes involving eggs.
Hello, my name is Jules and I’m a heavy-footed walker….I think. I have suspected it for awhile, but have finally come to the realisation that I think I stomp my feet a little harder on the ground that the average person, well maybe the average lady….and I’m a little embarrassed about it. Continue reading
I love love love soft-boiled eggs served with buttered toast cut into toast soldiers, and all my life I’ve loved them cooked exactly the same way. The white’s juuuust set and the yolks runny and creamy ready to be dunked by my buttered soldiers. One of life’s disappointments is when you flip the lid on your googy egg and it’s rock solid. The white’s are rubbery and the yolk is fully set and floury. When that happens, I just wanna go straight back to bed and start again.
Chouquettes were another discovery of mine when we lived in Paris. While we were living there I was studying french at the Alliance Francaise and opposite the metro stop that I would get off to get to the Alliance was a boulangerie (bakery) filled with all kinds of deliciousness. Each time after class on my way home, I would pop in to the boulangerie and sneak in a little snacky snack before lunch which initially was generally a pain aux raisins (one of my faves – recipe here). But every time I would get to the counter to make my pain aux raisins order there would be platter sitting on the counter with a giant pyramid of these little choux pastry puffs sprinkled with sugar whispering ‘pick me! pick me!’. So one fateful day I decided to forego my usual fave and try these little sugar puffs that were begging me to eat them. A love affair began…
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.
So I made my own granola, yeah I did and it was a sad and happy occasion. Happy because it was sooo gooood, sad because I hadn’t discovered this recipe earlier. As I’m writing this, my belly is aching a little…I think I overdid it slightly with the granola but that’s how addictive it is – but I’m sure the rest of you have more strength than I do. I think if the Dr had come home while I was baking the granola he would have thought that I was possessed, I was crouched down in front of the oven door inhaling the granola fumes, almost ripping the oven door off the oven. Good lord.
So I’ve worked out over the years that people sit in one of two buckets. They either love leftovers or they’re just not that into it. Unless I’ve cooked a dish that I absolutely love or something that actually gets better with time, I sit in the latter bucket.