In my efforts to break away from the crutch of carbs these white beans have become my blue jeans. They’re my ballet slippers. The big grey jumper. They’re my stretchy black sun dress, or for The Hungry One, the football jersey that he should really let go of. In essence, they’re what I reach for …
Cooking for one
Ah, plane food. Such a constellation of delights. This is a story about one of them. Granted, I wasn’t in the greatest of moods when we started our 28 hour commute from Sydney to London. We travel lots, but I’m yet to master being charming all the time while being squeezed into a metal tube …
This is not an official salad Niçoise. For one, a salad Niçoise by mandate, should be eaten while wearing nautical stripes and over large sunglasses on the Côte d’Azur . For two, it should be made with tinned tuna, olives, capers and peppers. This, has none of those things. What it does have is a …
This is a bastardisation of tapas, and of tortilla. For one; tapas usually involves plates (note the plural). Meanwhile this dish uses just one. It’s also a bastardisation of a tortilla. Tortilla normally appears as tall wedges of omelette, buxom with slices of potato and other cheerful things. This one is a little flat chested. …
Just because you’re cooking for yourself doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t occasionally pull out some stops. Some nights it’s important to eat from a bowl on the couch. But other nights, it’s worth treating yourself. Siting at a table. Using a knife as well as a fork. Drinking from a wine glass, even if it’s …
