celebrity spotting.

This is turning into a very good day!

On the way to lunch at the Goodlife with Elsie, I saw Simon Bryant on Frome Rd! Kewl. At first I thought his giant dog was going to take a chunk out of me, but then I realised he was FAMOUS and stopped worrying (challenge: find the logic). This makes the second celebrity sighting this year in Adelaide! (The other was Ben Folds at the markets).

excited and terrified!

I GOT IN TO GENEVA!!!

(this does not, however, mean I can necessarily go).

But still. YAAAAAY!

cheating. AGAIN.

Ok ok, I cheated again. But I really couldn't remember Embers by Sandor Marai at all, so it was kind of not cheating after all. Right?

The only thing I could remember was that it's about two old Eastern-European men sitting in a room chatting. And to be honest, a week or so after reading it again, I can't remember much more. It's about two old Eastern-European men sitting in a room chatting - fifty years after their friendship broke down and they last saw each other. There is a specific reason why they stopped being friends, and it's basically this that they're discussing, but I can't say what it is without ruining the first third or so of the book. Although you can probably guess.

I was going to say that this is the kind of book that people either love or hate, but I guess that's not really true because I apparently found it completely forgettable. It's one of those books that is more about atmosphere than plot, and it excells in this because it's so well written - I think in this sense it's one of the few books where the cover actually gives you a really good representation of what the content is going to be like. The story is not very directed, often it's quite philosophical, often about the nature of friendship itself, which depending on the kind of reader you are, you'll either find really interesting and beautiful, or just irritating and you'll wish they'd just get to the point already. Which I'm afraid to say they never really do as far as I can remember.

If you like atmospheric, philosophical, introspective writing then you'll probably love this book (Molly?), but if you like directed stories with a moving plot, then this will probably bore you silly. I apparently fall somewhere in the middle, which means that I enjoyed the book, and then immediatly forgot it. Twice.

wooooo! ing.

Check out wikipedia's featured picture today!

making curry.

I started off Saturday night planning to make just one dish, but it sort of morphed into three.

On the left, the one that looks like it's sliding off the table, is Peter Singer's daal, on the right is this Chicken Tikka Masala, and the rice is this lemon rice.

They were all enjoyable, but not amazing. I'm beginning to think my standards are too high. If it doesn't taste like excellent restaurant food, it's not good enough. So I may well make these again, but I'm certainly not putting 'best ever' on them. And as usual I massively overcatered.

I followed the reviews and cut down the salt and chilli in the chicken recipe. The rice was ok, better than plain white rice for sure, but not at all like the lemon rice I've had in restaurants. At all. I think if I try again I will try a different recipe. The daal was actually quite good, but I felt kind of guilty for serving it in the same meal as a chicken dish, as Peter Singer provided it to convince people that vegeterian food is just as tasty as meat, and therefore we should stop torturing defenceless animals to satisfy our own selfish tastebuds. Whoops! But I don't think my family would've reacted very positively to a dinner of just lentils, but now they've tried it and liked it, I should be able to make it again as a meal in itself without too much complaining or hippie jokes.

Also served was a little lemon pickle from the Indian grocer on Market St. It tasted exactly like the lime pickle at Beyond India. You win some you lose some I guess.

baking and making.

Two good things to come out of Carous-hell. A new mustard Carla, and a new (and awesome!) chocolate chip cookie recipe.

The cookies were so good, they're almost all gone already, and my mum ate two, even though she's on a diet. The recipe is from Andrew the oboe's girlfriend's grandma, and I haven't posted it here, as I don't think it's my place to make it public. If anyone wants it though, I can email it (and off the top of my head, it was so simple).

[Update: my mum, yes the one on the diet, actually made another batch the next day. So good.]

And I will be warm and trendy in my new Carla: I only wish I'd brough it to work today - I'm freezing.















And a gratuitous cat shot - because this blog isn't l-a-m-e enough.





















"Mmmm. Cooooookieees. I wonder how I can get in there without opposable thumbs?"

at the markets.

Apres mon classe francaise, je suis allee a le 'Central Markets'. (Corrections, anyone?).

I went to get some sweet bean curd... but I went a little nuts.

Clockwise from the Thums Up [sic]: Indian breath freshner (red variety); real cinnamon; lemon pickle; sweet bean curd with syrup; passionfruit greek yoghurt; Saint Agur cheese; rambutan; vanilla persimmon; sugar coated fennel breath freshener (pink).

I also bought a whole heap more spices in the Indian grocer that perhaps was strictly necessary.

The whole expedition was a little quicker than usual because there was a fire alarm at the markets. This meant that the lines got shorter when most people evacuated - not me though! Me not afraid of fire! Me have fire training! Raargh! (Also, there was no smoke and the shopkeepers didn't seem too worried).

Also at the markets, I got some good karma. =). I did my civic duty and rang the council to let them know that one of their parking meters was busted. It turns out you only have to use the nearest parking meter, and if it's broken - FREE PARKING! (But I think it would pay to ring the council and let them know, because they take your numberplate in case you get a ticket anyway.)