June 13th, 2002

Carravaggio

Nate Fisher to the rescue

Yesterday was the strangest day. The sky was brown for one thing, ick. So I'd had a reasonably productive morning, busy with work stuff, getting it done. Just basic mechanics but satisfying honest toil. So it was lunch, I was typing up more recipes for my mates - and they're probably thanking fate right now that I was stopped mid recipe but it's such a silly book: a celebrity cook book compliled by none other than Tony Head. Yes, that one! See picture attached. My evil Bro found it for me the other day and it contains such gems as Sean Bean's Sunday Roast and Stephen Fry's Honey Buns. Truly.

    Sean Bean's Complete Sunday Roast or Chicken in Red Pesto Sauce

    4 Skinless chicken breasts

    1 can tomatoes
    1 tub creme fraiche
    1 jar red pesto
    fresh basil (and that's pronounced bazil, not baysil, as this is a Brit book)
    fresh black olives

    Brown chicken in a pot.
    Meanwhile mix creme fraiche, tomatoes with 3 dessertspoons of red
    pesto sauce in a bowl. Add to saucepan with the chicken and simmer on
    a low heat for 40 minutes.
    Meanwhile, cook some rice - I recommend heartily boil in the bag Uncle Ben's!
    Just before serving add basil leaves and chopped black olives.
    Then, stuff your faces!

    Stephen Fry's Honey Buns (I kid you not)


    2 eggs
    3 oz (75g) caster sugar (sic?)
    1 teaspoon soft dark sugar

    pinch salt
    4 oz (100g) self raising flour (get with the metric system, darling
    boy)
    1 teaspoon baking powder
    4 oz (100g) melted butter - cooled

    1 tablespoon honey

    Whisk together the eggs and sugar. Fold in the sifted flour, baking
    powder and salt. Leave mixture to rest for 30 minutes. Stir in the melted butter and honey.
    Bake in cases, approx 25 minutes at 350F, 180C or Gas Mark 4.

    Baldrick's Turnip Surprise (no, really!)

    Hide behind a door.
    Wait until a turnip comes along.
    Jump out and say 'BOO'.

Buyt I digress. I was halfway through typing up David McCallum's recipe (well, Tuna Gate is like a little recipe club so I thought I'd get my J/D list going) and they dumped a new monitor on me. Only, arrrgh, something about this monitor is set to give Jen instant migraines and no amount of fiddling would fix it and they wouldn't take it away. I couldn't bear to look at the scren. I got upset. Really upset. Dragged off to the teamroom upset and that hasn't happened since the 80s, and considering my 90s, whoo, baby. So I was made a cup of tea and the womenfolk made soothing noises, which turned into a massive bitch session about the men in the office, which naturally led to bitching about the CMS marketing has imposed from upon high, which led me to giving an impromtu tutorial on how to break the CMS by using a few handy dandy html commands which led, somehow, to us trawling the net for pictures of Peter Krause and Six Feet Under spoilers. So, bad day, but I finally managed to bond with my co-workers. Like I said, the weirdest day.

Didn't get any fic done. Kinda just sat in front of the boob tube when I got home, late, but I did snarf a handful of panadol on account of the massive headache evil machine induced. Thank's to Sin's advice I've swapped the monitor with a person who's currently in Europe, so we'll see how much of a break I get. Can't explain it but it seemed to flicker at the perfect rate to drive me nuts, like a scream. Of course, everyone thinks I'm nuts now but you deal with a monitor set to strobe at your own personal brain frying level and see how well you do.


 

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Carravaggio

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Hee, they're playing that silly song again, where's they've put the words of Advance Australia Fair to Working Class Man. Only in Australia - giggle. Americans are so damn serious, they'd never set the words of their national anthem to a rather ludicrous 80s pop song. Typical Australians, we can only sing the first verse of ours, and then only to the tune of Gilligans Island (and it works, too, ditto the Beverly HillBillies). We just don't take ourselves at all seriously. And I like that. I think it's sweet and endearing. We're so eager to please and silly. We're still a big puppy of a country.