custard Tag

rum and raisin baked tapioca pudding


How many times does a recipe have to fail you before you decide that it just isn’t meant to be?  I used to simply set my maximum at three, the same philosophy… no, discipline really that I vigorously apply to all pursuits in life, but as it so proved in the course of the past few weeks, the kitchen, is a much more complicated world.  Actually, it isn’t that difficult to explain my unwavering faith in this particular case because as we all experience first-handedly, nostalgia is a powerful form of religion.  And with this, hoho… we go way back.

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chicken in the swamp


No lattice-top?  No pretty dashing colors of summer berries?  Not even the scarce possibility of a scoop of ice-cream on top (people will eat anything with an ice-cream on top these days)(how’s that heatwave going)?  Just when my latest favorite creation was traffic-vetoed because of its less-than-fashionable appearance (A’ight, it may look Susan Boyle but that rice can fucking sing!), I can’t believe I’m preparing to feature this visual question-mark…  If you have the urge to gush out, Oh Lord this poor woman dropped that labour of a pie in the kitchen sink!…  I assure I have not.  It’s this stubborn nerve of mine, you see.  I want to cook for traffic I really do.  I’m not playing cool.  But it’s this nerve for curiosity… this damn nerve…

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Fauxnut holes


There’s nothing more unappetizing to start this conversation by saying that these days when I sit down, my tummy-folds can sort of touch my thighs…  Nothing more unappetizing…  Not even a fart-joke can top it.  I know that.  So instead, I’m going with a different approach to explaining why I came up with these unbelievably, OUT-of-your-MIND-ly delicious “fauxnut” holes on my table without making you subconsciously touching your gutt while reading.


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Nanny-Bribery Icebox Pear Bars



Tuesday was Lady and Pups’s first X’mas!  And we just got back from a lovely week in Rome to spend the holiday with our kids (I assume that the away-for-days part was all forgiven once they smelled the salami treats in the luggage)…  And yes, we went to Rome.  Oooh stawwp it… but if you must know, it was pretty awesome.  As I sort through digital-piles of photos in order to share that fantastic trip with you, I’m going to let you in on a little secret on how to have care-free, long vacations when you have 3 dog-children to care for – bribing the doggie nanny.


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Forgive Me I Have Pie-d…

creme brulee pie freatured header


The only equivalent comparison in life to this would be: In our last two years in New York when we were practically cast out of Manhattan by elitism (FINE, high rents) and moved to… Jersey City where there was a most pathetic looking, hicks-Ahoy karaoke bar right around the block. With more conviction than I withheld on my wedding day I said to Jason, “IF we EVER raised even the SLIGHTEST idea of walking into this place, it is THE moment that we’ve been “Jersified” and must pack up and move back in the city immediately!” We survived Jersey and never did walk into that karaoke bar. But instead THIS happened here. My cue that says I have been in YET another dump for far too long that – I – made – a – PIE!!!


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