What a weekend of broken things and 'mishaps' it has been thus far! (read about the digger at http://catherinedrew.wordpress.com/ ). To begin with, Isobella somehow dropped my brand new unused la Chamba square baking dish onto the floor smashing it into about fifty broken hearted pieces. Julia had given it to us as a wedding gift not even one week previously. I was so angry I could not speak. I swore. I cried, but whatever I did/do, the dish is till in pieces.
I made the kids promise not to tell Julia. I think she would be more upset than me. (But if she reads this,... ummm...)
We had the pleasure of Deborah staying with us for the first two days of the labour weekend so she was witness to all the mayhem around us. Never one to shirk, she and I cooked amazing feasts through it all. I made a beautiful white bread dough,shaped it into four substantial sized pizza's, threw canned spaghetti and grated cheese on two, and tomato paste, sun dried tomatoes, capers, capsicum and grated cheese on one, the remaining one I stretched to the max and smeared it with ample truffle oil and a sprinkling of maldon salt. The kids wolfed the spag pizza down while the adults ate vegetarian curry and raw cabbage coleslaw (hold the mayonnaise, add a mystery 'Deb' Thai dressing.) I bought the vegetarian pizza out from the oven,followed by the truffle oil bread, hot, piquant, enticing!. I could not resist! Neither could Deborah. So there we were, two wheat intolerant scoffing white flour bread...but my god! It was the perfect balance of truffle to salt to thin base.
I paid for it later, sore tum, slightly sad.
After the la Chamba incident, Deb and I and Harry went to the Yatra-photos of India (Karim Sahai) photographic exhibition in the Michael Fowler center. I enjoyed the images, but we had arrived a tad too early and the images were not completely installed. We only had a small window, so missed a lot. On our way home, the Pajero stalled about nine times. Yes..it just stopped. I think it has something to do with the battery. I can't drive my VW because we are waiting for a switch to arrive from France to enable the brake lights to work.
The following morning, I dressed for a rainy cold run and actually persuaded Deane to run with me. It was a short, invigorating run around our 30 minute block. Once home I made Deane and I and Harry and Drew a juice (with my new OSCAR juicer!) of carrot and garlic. Harry and I then, warmly dressed- drove to the Sunday morning market. We were there by about eight a.m and got the perfect park. It was reminiscent of our winter mornings. Quickly we gathered our fruit and vegetables. Harry scoffed his pain au raisin and I waited patiently for my coffee at espresso rescue. They make a good strong coffee, worth waiting for on a Sunday morning. On our heavily laden way back to the van, a particularly strong gust blew coffee out of my cup! Harry was laughing as he supped his hot chocolate using me as a wind break.