FIGS AND RICOTTA CHEESECAKE POPSICLE

[ezcol_1quarter]  [/ezcol_1quarter] [ezcol_1half] IS IT ME OR THERE'S A ZINNGG INSIDE MY HEAD? Leaving you quickly today with this beautiful inspiration I got from Erin Ireland on Instagram, gorgeous cross-sections of sweet figs being encased in a thick and creamy, lightly sea-salted ricotta "cheesecake" mixture, like frozen eternal jewels!  And we are not just talking about figs here.  Think peaches, summer berries, tropical dragon fruits or pineapples, KIWIS!  How pretty are those gonna be huh?!! OK.  That's about as much enthusiasm as I can spare today.  Is it me or do you hear a zinnnngg inside my head, too?  Now this head-aching zombie must go lay down. [/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1quarter_end]  [/ezcol_1quarter_end] [ezcol_1quarter][/ezcol_1quarter] [ezcol_1quarter][/ezcol_1quarter] [ezcol_1quarter][/ezcol_1quarter] [ezcol_1quarter_end][/ezcol_1quarter_end] [ezcol_1half][/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end][/ezcol_1half_end] [amd-zlrecipe-recipe:78]

CHURROFFLE AND CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM SANDWICH

[ezcol_1half] YES, CHURRO WAFFLES [/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end] Gotta run today!  Leaving you quickly with yet another inbred waffle abomination.  Churros + waffles = churroffles.  Yes, apparently, churro waffles, too.  A clear proof that I spotted on Instagram, from Monochrome Bistro in Singapore, where they serve it with what looks like a huge scoop of cookies’n cream ice cream.  But you know, call me romantic.  I’d like to think that even after being barbarically deformed in between the burning metal teeth of a waffle griddle, that even when its own mother couldn’t recognise him anymore, that even when his previously tall and slender physique now seem like the mirage from another life… that deep down, churro still wants chocolate.  And chocolate still wants churro too, stubby and crooked as he is.  It’s true love. So here it is.  Churroffles tumbled in light brown sugar spiced with cinnamon, allspice and nutmeg, then go on to hug his soulmate, deep dark chocolate ice cream in a summer reunion.  Love is in the air.  Can you feel it? [/ezcol_1half_end] [ezcol_1half][/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end][/ezcol_1half_end] [ezcol_1half][/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end][/ezcol_1half_end] [ezcol_1half][/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end][/ezcol_1half_end] [amd-zlrecipe-recipe:74]

APPLE FUNNEL CAKE W/ APPLE YOGURT SORBET

The yellow bowl, my recent favourite for everything, is from Dishes Only. [ezcol_1half] I STARED HATEFULLY INTO THE FUNNEL CAKE LADEN IN CINNAMON SUGAR AND MELTED CREAM, THEN REACHED OUT MY TENTACLES AND TOOK ANOTHER "ONE LAST BITE" [/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end] I think we've all been there.  There, every year in the first week of June, when the temperature abruptly severs from the safe briskness that was Spring, and ready or not, takes a sudden dive into the skin-binding, armpit-greasing humidity and heat that lays the red carpet for the bikini-season to come.  When we realize that it's already too hot to cuddle with the safety of our long-sleeves and sweatpants, but when we look down upon the masses that used to hanged so discreetly underneath the winter-coats around our waists, thighs and oh-fuck-everywhere, we see the rings of humiliations, as if in an awkward smile, still hanging.  And for the epic beach vacation forever in planning and the sleeveless dress that's been waiting since 2005, that it is once again, all too late. That moment came, or shall I say, ambushed me last weekend while I was spending an otherwise lovely afternoon on the patio of our favourite hang-out, The Taco Bar.  As usual, after an epic feast, we sat there rounding

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