Just a quick note for tonight. Haven't been blogging much these past few days, what with Christmas preparations. Tonight I have prepared the dressing for the Caesar salad I am contributing for lunch tomorrow. I have prepared another frozen dessert, kind of a bombe, I think it would be classed. Mixed some basic chocolate cake mix (used the generic brand mix, it's all you need, and just do it to the instructions, only instead of pouring into a cake tin, you pour it out flat on some pizza trays, or something similar. Once it is cooked, slice it into 'triangles', and line a bowl - by the way, line the bowl with glad wrap first - so you have a kind of basin of chocolate. And for the filling get some good quality vanilla ice cream, soften it, and add some liqueur - the choice for your blogger was Bailey's Irish Cream, and not just because of her surname - and some tinned berries. When the filling is in, use the left over bits of flat cake to make a lid, and seal it with the glad wrap, and freeze that baby. When ready, turn it over on a plate and serve, so it looks like a dome. Now, because I'm feeling charitable, and because I always like to stun with my amazing general knowledge, let me give you all a hint. When cooking with chocolate, add a pinch of salt. Yes, salt. Want to know why? It really enhances the flavour of the chocolate.
The kids are in bed, but I don't know if they're dreaming of sugarplums. They're more likely dreaming of x-box games. The youngest has left a carrot out the front for the reindeer. I don't know if he actually still believes, or is maintaining the ruse to score extra gifts. He had to be dissuaded from leaving out a glass of milk for Santa Claus, and I did this by pointing out this is the Australian summer, and the milk will spoil, and Santa will not enjoy flying along, hurling over the side of his sleigh. Will he believe in Santa for sure next year? I don't know. It doesn't matter that the baby/little boy stage is over. I relish observing my kids reach every new milestone and phase of their lives. Yet, I wistfully think of a Christmas morning when my oldest, then aged about five, ran to the lounge room and jumped up and down, clapping his hands. 'He's been! He's been!' he cried, in the tones of pure delight that are the sole province of an innocent child.
But in any event, I've already got what I wanted for Christmas. Open lines of communication.
A merry, safe, and (if you are religious) holy Christmas to all reading.
No comments:
Post a Comment