Painting the kitchen red

So was all prepared to attempt my first Thai Red Curry for a certain someone. But plans fell through, much to my flatmate's delight! 

Flatmate: "So, er, what are you gonna do with all those ingredients then? I mean they can't go to waste… All that money. And the freshness of the produce... I think it's best if you use them and just cook anyway... I mean I'm sure someone will eat it… … … … …"

Talk about currying favour! ....

Olive: "Alright, fine! I'll cook for you. But your job is wine. Now fill me up!"

Olive's Thai Red Curry

 Fry Thai Red Curry paste (homemade, obvs!) in a little oil, then add tin of Coconut Milk.

 Add chicken and prawns.

 Add 10 000 veges, because we all need our greenery. 

I added beans and broccoli. Flatmate smirked. 

 Let it boil and bubble and conjure up trouble.

 Meanwhile, chop some cori's. Love me some cori's.

Get flatmate to pour you a large glass of wine. And tell him to make himself useful and cook the rice.

Lame-ass Woolies thought it would be funny to only sell peanuts-and-raisins mix. (They had peanuts but only in a bag big enough to sit in, and 3 times the cost. Are they nuts?) 

Next task for flatmate: separate peanuts, eat the raisins, crush the peanuts.

 Simmer... Throw in some coriander. Chilli if you want. Totes up to you. Add some fish sauce (for that authentic Thai twist) and some sugar.

 Put in bowl over jasmine rice.

 Sprinkle with cori's and peanuts. Lots. Coz more is better!

Just because it looks cool.

 

Re-fill wine glass; dig in!

Mother calls – as I'm picking up my fork – for a chat. Told her I was a little Thai-ed up. 

x

Her Anus

Excuse the title. It really is foul. And I'm not a particularly foul-mouthed girl. But it did make me laugh out loud when I saw the sign in Hermanus and the 'm' had dropped off. Not even a halo-clad Pastor in his holy-water Jacuzzi could ignore the humour in that.

Butt anyway...

;)

Moving on.

This naweek am going to stay here:

... at 183 Marine Beachfront Guesthouse.

HOW PRETTY!!

Mental note: MUST PIN ALL THESE PICTURES TO 'BEACH HOUSE' BOARD!

Was supposed to be a surprise weekend. Naturally I let slip weeks ago. Am about as good as keeping secrets as I am at folding fitted sheets.

Plans for weekend:

Whale watching
Weight watching  Drinking and eating
Tanning (yes, I know it's 15 degrees, and raining, but I will sit on that beach)
Reading
Walking
Sleeping
Shopping (for future beach house ornaments)

And that just about does it.

I won't use the cliche 'we're going to have a whale of a time'. But it may be a whale (said in questionable Welsh accent) before I blog again.

Friday morning chat

Mother is actually concerned as to why I am not going to this 'huge festival' with all my friends. I asked her how she'd like to sleep in a tent marinading in mud, while listening to locals bands and watching people get high. She quickly changed the subject:

Mother: So what are you doing this weekend then, Darling?
Olive: Am going to Franschhoek. Lunch on a wine farm, staying on a wine estate. Free massages, free wine tasting, free meals, then off to a wine festival on Sunday.
Mother: All I heard was wine.
Olive: Isn't it great?!

I hear Mother take a deep breath, then again quickly change the subject.

Mother: How is the new flat?
Olive: So lovely.
Mother: How is that little kitten, is he settling in?
Olive: If you define 'settling in' as eating my bedroom door, eating the cupboard door, eating my shoes, knocking over all my bathroom products and knocking a bedside table lamp on to my head while I sleep... then yes, he is settled.
Mother: Does New Flatmate like him?
Olive: I think he did. Until it ate his shoe laces and meowed outside his bedroom door for a good two hours at 4am.
Mother: Have you cooked for him, I think you should? Ask what he would like?
Olive: I did. He asked me to cook the cat… Told him I'd make him a CATserole. (Ba-dum-dum-TSSHSHHH)

Cat-astrophe

Things I've learnt already after having a kitten for just 4 days...

• Do not expect to sleep. He will. On your face. (Or as close as he can get to it, while clawing your hair.) And he'll purr start up his chainsaw in your ear.

• Expect holes in everything. From your pants (after he claws his way up your leg while you brush your teeth), to your duvet, your couch, the carpet, the curtains… and your skin!

• At night: keep all body parts under the duvet at all times, or they will be ripped to pieces. Also – DON'T MOVE. At all. All you will be pounced on in your sleep.

• Do not try throw him off the bed when you are getting frustrated or want to sleep. No, no. He thinks it's a game, and will spring back and claw on to your arm and bite the sh*t out of it. 

• Do not hang clothes on the washing line. He will jump up and hang off it until he has taken off every last sock and pair of knickers.

• Do not leave home. EVER. Or he cries until you get back and you get complaints from the neighbours. 

• Wear protective gloves. A baseball mitt perhaps. Or your hands will be mauled.

But there are, of course, one or two good things...

• Get him a feather mouse to play with and he'll be occupied for hours...

• When he does eventually sleep, and isn't bulleting up and down the room like a mental case chasing imaginary nothings, he is a maybe a little bit cute...

 So, I think I'll keep it. 

And those big green eyes too. 

Now all I need is some sleep... 

Anyone want to catsit for a night?

Puff the magic pastry!

I literally have developed a new obsession with cooking. It all started with that Christmas cooking course. Then the Indian one. Am about to whip out my beret and embark on a French one. And who knows what will come next! Unfortunately since my kitchen was made for ants, I have to cook at friend's houses. But I've noticed friends don't often say no to my requests to come and cook them dinner in their kitchen.

Anyway my top ingredient at the moment is puff pastry. It's just so bloody versatile. And delicious. And crispy. And buttery.

So, considering a.) my infatuation with puff-pastry recipes and b.) my current cooking fad, you can imagine my sheer delight and potentially dangerous overexcitement when work asked us to make this ----->

It was from a cookbook that was sent to the office and they decided each person should make a recipe. Naturally I teamed up with Vivi&Lola and we got straight to the task that Saturday, after popping open a bottle of Beyerskloof Brut Rose. We like to use bubbly when we cook. Occasionally, like today, we add food. Here was the result...

Not half bad right? Pretty spot on even though I say so myself!

Once the photoshoot was over I totally kitted mine out "Jolly Olly style", smothering it with layers of avo and sweet chilli, turned it into the ultimate finger-licking-good to-die-for mess on a plate:

Oh. So.
DELICIOUS!

Anyhooo, in other puff pastry news...

My second masterpiece for the week:

Yes, I like some pastry with my garlic butter.

Break it open and what do you get??

True happiness! Roasted butternut, bacon, feta and mushrooms.

Heaven heaven heaven.

Now, anyone looking to buy a bathroom scale? I'm trying to get rid of mine!

Going in for the shrill

I can say with complete confidence that this is probably the most I've ever laughed in my entire life. Decided to watch some of the 'female' Olympic SHOT PUT... I say female because those chicks are about as feminine as a jock strap. Anyway, peacefully watching away when I heard the most alarming, frightening sound and realised it was coming from the mouths of these competitors. 

The first one sounded like something out of Jurassic Park...

The second sounds like someone letting go of a balloon!!!... Or perhaps a cat being thrown off a cliff?

Needless to say I was literally in fits of laughter for the next hour. I had to keep rewinding to watch it over and over until tears were streaming down my face. Anyway, hope you enjoy the sound effects as much as I did!!

TURN THE VOLUME UP LOUD!

Into the blue...

"In one drop of water are found all the secrets of the oceans."  

Kahlil Gibran

 Yes... water of this dazzlingly pure flourescent hue of cerulean REALLY exists. It's called the Med. And it surrounds a tiny weeny island called Malta – the home of Maltese poodles, Maltesers, single Malt whiskey, Molten Brown, Teasers... Ok I'm just kidding. But it was my home for a full two weeks. And I've fallen in love. With the water. With the locals. With its rich history. Its untouched beauty. 

And with my tan.

"For whatever we lose (like a you or a me),
It's always our self we find in the sea."
e.e. cummings

The Best Exotic Marigold Amateur Chefs

So remember 'Santa's Workshop' (above)? So we went back, except this time it wasn't Christmas-themed but... INDIAN-themed (below)!

Er... This is awkward...

It's like a 'Spot The Difference' !!

COVER UP THE ANSWERS BELOW AND SEE HOW MANY YOU GET RIGHT:

• I'm browner
• I'm blonder
• I'm drinking white instead of red
• The lime apron is WAY hotter than the Lurpac apron
• A look of desperation. (I'd just eaten a chilli.)
• I have no idea what I'm doing. Oh, wait... That's the same in both.

Look – aside from us taking thorough advantage of the free wine at both events, the two experiences were actually very different. This time, instead of a lip-smacking Christmas feast accompanied by mulled wine and mince pies, we made piping hot drool-all-over heavenly curry accompanied by lassi and onion bajis...

With garlic-butter naan (rolled into perfect 'teardrop' shape by yours truly)...

And after much much toil and strife, and sweat and tears...

 We plated them together to create an Indian masterpiece...

Fit for a Buddha.

And your average pissed 20-something-year-old...

The SA Chefs Academy runs a course on the first Wednesday of every month, each with a new, exciting theme! The evening runs from 6pm to 9pm and costs R350 each (you have to go in pairs). You get starters, you cook a main (and smash it in your face) and you get dessert (below), and bottomless Hemel-en-Arde wines.