I visited my aunts and uncles a day ago and ate some fresh, delicious and downright bangin' talaba (oysters) but I would like to focus on the life-changing event that happened minutes before those yummy bivalves were served. While my sister and I settled ourselves in the living room, my cousin came up and did some idle chat about food. Of course I listened. Feeding yourself with information about food and processing the data into HD graphics inside your head is the best way to shut your stomach up. Then she picked up the remote and-- bam-- MasterChef Australia was on. That was, in all probability, the best TV-related encounter I've had in three years.
They were tasked to make a meringue-based dessert called Pavlova. I am in no way a food critic, aspiring chef or gym sock, but I certainly know baking Pavlovas is a pain when you're under pressure. One of the contestants broke down all of a sudden and I was just sitting there staring at her like I had a grading sheet with me. Anyway, watching the contestants run around like they were in a war with whisks and spatulas as weapons simply motivated me to do something I should have done years ago: open the cookbook my aunt forgot to bring with her to Canada.
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| The Pavlova was named after the Russian ballerina, Anna Pavlova. Image (c) wikipedia.org |
No, really. I am considering doing charity work for my benefit. Tomorrow I am going to the supermarket to do a little bit of grocery shopping. My first little monster? The traditional blueberry cheesecake. I have been making cheesecakes for a while now actually, but I still sort of suck at it especially because I keep on eating them instead of making others eat them and critic my work. I am also going to try making pesto because herbs are cool.
My summer has officially started!
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