(no subject)
Just in case you were wondering if I tried out any of those recipes, I did attempt to make apple-stuffed pork chops which turned out tasting far too tarty and herby for our liking. Let's face it: boys will always be boys. Boys do not like their meat tampered with and shoved with bits of fruits and nuts. And so I have learnt my lesson. When cooking to please the male species, 'Keep It Simple, Silly!' is the way to go. Stick with chunky meat that they can rip apart with their teeth and keep it medium rare so that bloody juices can trickle down their chin. MACHO MUCH?
Cooking aside, you would think that 1) since I'm in London, 2) since it is spring/summer, 3) since there are grassy parks and blossoming flowers, 4) since there is a galore of sandwiches/cupcakes/macarons/salads everywhere, it means I could and should most definitely have a pretty little picnic.
Uh huhhhh, I thought the same before I came. I looked at tumblr photos and imagined myself wearing a white summer frock and a chic hat, sitting bare-footed in the green green grass, blowing at silly dandelions and nibbling daintily at cupcakes from Hummingbird Bakery or popping fat strawberries into my little mouth.
But the moment I get here, these daydreams fizzle into nothing. Quite ironically, I become overcome by laziness and a lack of imagination. In fact, it bugs me that maybe I've even stopped dreaming. A picnic in that wind?! Really?? The risk of having dandelion fluff (or whatever) getting stuck on the icing of my cupcake? How much do strawberries cost anyway!
And POOF! We end up eating pasta at home instead and making sure the punnet of strawberries lasts for at least three days.
So much for spring/summer in London. I haven't even had a cupcake yet (although I've had a donut or two...or three). The furthest I've got is probably buying a dress that fits the bill of being called a 'white summer frock', c'est tout. I is ashamed of myself now.
And now it's time to panick because I've only got one precious week till the end of my month in London. Time to stop being such a wuss. Time to get off my ass and make sure I damn well create a picnic-occasion for the both of us.
God save us and the day we find both ourselves in Singapore. Something tells me we're going to be two boring lard-bags then.
Cooking aside, you would think that 1) since I'm in London, 2) since it is spring/summer, 3) since there are grassy parks and blossoming flowers, 4) since there is a galore of sandwiches/cupcakes/macarons/salads everywhere, it means I could and should most definitely have a pretty little picnic.
Uh huhhhh, I thought the same before I came. I looked at tumblr photos and imagined myself wearing a white summer frock and a chic hat, sitting bare-footed in the green green grass, blowing at silly dandelions and nibbling daintily at cupcakes from Hummingbird Bakery or popping fat strawberries into my little mouth.
But the moment I get here, these daydreams fizzle into nothing. Quite ironically, I become overcome by laziness and a lack of imagination. In fact, it bugs me that maybe I've even stopped dreaming. A picnic in that wind?! Really?? The risk of having dandelion fluff (or whatever) getting stuck on the icing of my cupcake? How much do strawberries cost anyway!
And POOF! We end up eating pasta at home instead and making sure the punnet of strawberries lasts for at least three days.
So much for spring/summer in London. I haven't even had a cupcake yet (although I've had a donut or two...or three). The furthest I've got is probably buying a dress that fits the bill of being called a 'white summer frock', c'est tout. I is ashamed of myself now.
And now it's time to panick because I've only got one precious week till the end of my month in London. Time to stop being such a wuss. Time to get off my ass and make sure I damn well create a picnic-occasion for the both of us.
God save us and the day we find both ourselves in Singapore. Something tells me we're going to be two boring lard-bags then.