I am totally going through a fashion slump right now and it’s bugging me. I have clothes, and I could wear these in cool combinations but I seem to keep going back to the same 3 or 4 outfits to get me through, and I can tell you they are not so cool that you’d find me gracing the pages of The Sartorialist, nope, not happening.
I have been thinking about this salad ever since I had it in Washington DC at the Mitsimam Cafe at the National Museum of the American Indian almost a year ago now. We were staying with family friends of the Dr’s while we were there and they suggested that while we were visiting the museums that we have lunch there. At first I was kinda skeptical, a recommendation to go to a cafe in a museum? hmmm, ok.
Do you guys remember that episode of sex and the city when the girls talk about their secret single behaviour (better known as SSB). These are behaviours or habits (sometimes embarrassing) that you only do when alone. For Carrie it was stacking saltines (known as premium crackers in Australia) and putting grape jelly on them and for Charlotte it was studying her pores for 10 minutes a night.
I’ve been reading all about David Lebovitz’s trip to Israel and all I want to do now is go to Israel and stuff my belly…have I not mentioned that all my travels are dictated by my stomach? Yeseree…The photos of those fresh vibrant salads, fall-off-the bone slow-roasted meats, creamy dips drizzled with olive oil…oh my…hang on a sec, I just need to wipe the drool off my keyboard.
I used to really not like yoga at all. I tried it a couple of times years ago but just couldn’t understand what the fuss was all about – for me to feel like I’ve exercised, it needed to be high impact and make me sweat like a drug mule standing in a customs line at the airport.
The earth moved for these tortillas – literally…that’s how much they rock.Watch Full Movie Online Streaming Online and Download
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.
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.
My dad recently introduced us to the Two Greedy Italians series. The Two Greedy Italians consist of Gennaro Contaldo and Antonio Carluccio, two prominent Italian chefs from the UK. Each episode in this series is spent in a different town in Italy, eating and cooking the local delicacies as well as mixing with the local people all while they continually bait each other like teenage boys and reminisce of what Italy was like when they were children. It really is food porn for Italian food lovers.
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.