Am I A Man?

I can never find things that are just there - CHECK
I leave the toilet roll on the holder while the new roll sits on top - CHECK
Occassional porn - CHECK
I HATE anti-men jokes - CHECK
I can be quite lazy - CHECK
I could probably eat a whole pizza - CHECK
I always seem to justify older men going out with young models - CHECK
< insert other cliches about men > - CHECK

Before Leaving

It's funny - last year the spirit was very different. There was a slight emptiness. I guess a part of me was still holding out for him. A tinier part even hoped he would again hop on a plane and see things with me.

Now, it is different. It is time for living in the moment, not a minute before, not a minute to come. Wonderful.

Red nose from the cold. Not wearing makeup lately.
Exactly how I feel.
A small smile of anticipation.

Happy 2nd Birthday Bubs!

Cake is good, and you're an angel x

An Observation

As I lied there with legs wide open, I realised my laser girl is the most powerful woman in Sydney.

She has seen more punanis than even the hottest bartender in town.

Be nice to your laser/waxing girl, girls.

Serve Them Right Up

If you have any recs for the upcoming trip, this is the place to share them.

Madrid-Ibiza-Barcelona-Amsterdam (no need for Dublin as I will be with dear Ruth, or London *fingers crossed we get in to Locanda Locatelli*, or Paris, and with horror I realised today we will only be there three days, which led to this email to D: "I hope you realise we will be eating non-stop in Paris" and her reply, "we really did plan this trip perfectly: first Ibiza while we are still slim-ish, and then bring on the feasting". Yes! So if you see two overripe brunettes cramming macaroons into their faces, come over and say hi).

Tu Meme, Je Meme

Kapow - tagged by Beautiful Lola.

Each person tagged gives seven random facts about themselves. Those tagged need to write on their blog seven facts, as well as the rules of the game. You need to tag seven others and list their names on your blog. You have to leave those you plan on tagging a note in their comments so they know that they have been tagged and need to read your blog.

1. Speaking Russian to strangers intimidates me whereas French doesn't, not really.
2. I hate the noise airplane toilets make when you flush them. I always think there's a slight chance you might get sucked in - and out - of them.
3. I've decided that politics don't matter a single bit. It's all bullshit.
4. It annoys me when people order capuccinos after dinner.
5. Even though Before Sunrise/Before Sunset are my favourite movies, I can't bring myself to watch them most of the time, because it drives me crazy how good they are and I want to scream and reach out and touch them.
6. I just won a fantastic competition!
7. I was obsessed with becoming the Australian ambassador to India when I was 16. After that phase I had no interest in going to India, ever. A few weeks ago it was all I wanted, and I hope to go there before the year's end.

I tag: Kath but only if she goes back to bed afterwards; Cam; Miss R; Jo; Mlle N and Julie (I would love to tag Delphine, but no blog?).

The Nana Wears Prada

From going from a fridge that had maybe a beer and an old bag of frozen peas, to a well-stocked one bursting at the hinges, I am on a mission to use up everything before I leave.

At the same time, I have fallen in love with polenta recently (like almost everyone, after being petrified/bemused by it for so long). It screams autumn and winter, and goes so well with anything you can think of. Sauteed mushrooms with thyme. Slow-cooked beef. Lamb cutlets. Even fried eggs. So I made osso buco milanese with polenta. And since a little polenta goes a loooong way, I have so much of it that I hit my favourite blogs for recipe ideas. I also had lotsa lemons. And coincidently, I Love Milk And Cookies had a wee recipe for lemon polenta cookies, so, too easy. To be honest I usually skip over recipes with citrus - they're not something that interest me - but, just like you and L'Oreal, these are so worth it.

This recipe from BBC Food for Osso Buco Milanese is very simple and very good. Make sure you make the gremolata to sprinkle over the top of the hot meat, it really makes this dish something special (and be sure to spend a few extra minutes shopping the garlic and parsley finely for that delicate taste).

For the polenta, preheat the oven to 180C. Bring a cup of milk and a cup of chicken stock to the boil. Once it reaches the boil, trickle in half a cup of polenta and whisk constantly for a few minutes, lowering the heat, until it thickens. Transfer to a buttered baking dish and cover with a lid, baking in the oven for 1-2 hours. The grains melt while baking, creating the softest, creamiest polenta. Serve straight away or refridgerate till set, then cut into slices, grill or fry to crisp.

Jennifer of I Love Milk And Cookies has a quick and easy recipe for these delightful lemon polenta cookies. The smell of them baking in the oven is reason enough to make them - fresh and buttery. The polenta gives me them a sandy texture but they are not hard and brittle, or too buttery like some biscuits can be. Just a lovely, pale yellow cookie that is perfect with a cup of milk, tea, coffee, or to serve with cheese and dried fruit after dinner.

J'aime ce genre de choses...

Me to him: My neck is naked without the necklace of your hard kisses.
Him to me: Buongiorno poeta. You can bring your whole body naked. Plenty of dresses for you.

L'Auberge Espagnole

What a good movie. I still love how it taps into so many utterly real thoughts and emotions, the craziness in your head...in the beginning when he walks away crying at the airport, fuck. And snippets of the same Radiohead song playing three times, ok I may be biased it's Radiohead, but it's so true, the same song can take us through many moments in life, it's not always a well-chosen soundtrack...

Shout Out For Genius

Send someone a some ecards ecard today - "when you care enough to hit send". So so funny.
Via Notcot.org.

Sometimes

...all you want is a pizza and to guzzle San Pellegrino from the bottle.

Tortilla bread. Passata. Baby spinach. Sliced bocconcini. Better than any pizza I've had in Sydney (along with Napoli in Bocca, La Disfida and Pizza Mario). So good I ate two. But they were small. Oh who cares they were delicious.

Quick Eat

Want a delicious, healthy meal (that's good enough to serve guests) in like 20 minutes?

1. Go to butcher and get milk-fed veal escalopes (allow two per person).
2. Bung oven on to 180C.
3. Roll some green beans, asparagus, whole cloves of garlic and halved cherry tomatoes in some oil, salt and pepper, and pop onto an ovenproof dish. Goes in the oven.
4. If you have prosciutto, lay down one slice per escalope on a cutting board. If you don't, don't worry about it. There's bigger things to worry about. Lay the veal onto the prosciutto, or if you don't have it, just on a cutting board. Thinly slice some bocconcini.
5. Spread a little Dijon or wholegrain mustard on the veal. Place 2-3 bocconcini slices in the middle.* Roll up lengthways and secure with a toothpick or two.
6. Melt a little butter and oil in a frypan. Brown veal on all sides, 2 minutes or so. Pop veal in oven for 5 minutes.
7. Have a glass of wine.
8. So the vegies should be roasting nicely and are ready to come out together. The bocconcini will have melted a little and the milkiness goes so well with the tender veal. Pop some of the vegies on the bottom, veal on top. Voila - veal involtini. Enjoy.

* Add whatever else you feel like, or have in the fridge. Sun-dried tomatoes? Yep. Sage? Whoa! Rocket? Fab-o.

It Is Sometimes Hard

...to reconcile the pilates and yoga when there is Green and Black's Milk Chocolate ("a darker shade of milk chocolate"). This may be the best chocolate I've had, and would pay - and do - anything for it.

Please go and eat some now.

Cliches 101

(Not far into an article in this weekend's Good Weekend on Michel Onfray):

"Sitting in a cafe, drinking espresso from a tiny cup..." - as opposed to a large cup? What the fuck else do you drink espresso in?

"...I think he may also be smoking a cigarette, and if he is, it will be a Gauloise. At least some things in life are certain".

Like bullshit cliched 'journalism'. Fuck off.

Added: decided to be a nana and send a letter to the editor!

Et Voila

I'm leaving in three weeks for four weeks in Europe, with my friend D. Spain, Florence, Amsterdam, Paris, Dublin, London. Specifics later on.

And, I will most probably be going back a few months later, for a year or two. All of which will be worked out when I get back, the where, when, what, how. The thoughts have been brewing since my birthday in December, made more concrete in recent weeks. When I told mum, I thought she would dismiss the idea - our little family stays close - she said, "you have to go".

I have decided to close the business. It is not bringing in enough money to make it feasible, and the collections I've seen lately leave me hopeless. I will write about this another time. I am not sad - it may resurface in another form at another time. But now, my steps are taking me to another challenge.

Two weeks from winter and this weekend Bronte Beach was dotted with sunbakers and swimmers. We ate brunch in summer clothes and I took photos of the sparkling water. And here I am, thinking of a new life, of jumping into the bitter cold. But there's a fire within.

And always mugs of hot chocolate.

I Love My Sister Reason #239487293847

A call on Sunday afternoon to break the news that Tony Bourdain got married a few weeks ago.

Bless!

The Millionaire Russian Politicians, Their Twenty-Something Wives, Their Tour Guide And Her Daughter

So yesterday an invite was extended by mum from her clients: two nouveau riche couples, for dinner at Tetsuya's. Hell yea. For two reasons. I'm a hat whore and count Tetsuya's as one of the very best meals of my life, but also to observe the older man-young wife phenomenon. I've always said I could do a bit of sugardaddy, so here was my opportunity to get up close and personal. Let's see how the night turned out...

Russians are nuts, but that's a given. The girls were typical Russian stunners and the men beige potato-like relics. They want the best, so we went through the best of the wine list, including an incredible '04 Giaconda chardonnay and an '86 Grange. The food is excellent, but I wasn't as dazzled as I hoped to be again, from the world's fifth best restaurant. Most of the dishes were brought out on standard white plates whereas when A and I were there every dish came out on a Japanese plate created just for that morsel, which I thought was special. Some flavours didn't work, like the pea soup with bitter chocolate (and I love dark, bitter chocolate) and the beetroot and blood orange sorbet - the earthy beet not harmonising with the zingy citrus. But overwhelmingly the food remains perfection. The confit of Petuna ocean trout is still a dish I could eat over and over again. The menu revolves around this marvel of sunset-hued fish, salty with konbu, and it's worth the visit alone. A grey sliver of baby barramundi is just so good on enoki and woodear mushrooms. The disc of smoked ocean trout is hidden under Avruga caviar and a quail egg, and you want to scoop up every crunchy black pearl. And I love Japanese custards, this time with leek and crab.

This had me thinking of 'best meals'. Yes, I am fascinated by star chefs and star restaurants, and wallet-willing will seek them out. I, too, would fly in and out if El Bulli offered me a table. But even more so do my happiest memories come from the simple. I could have licked the plate clean at La Spaghetteria last year, an accidently-found spot in one of Siracusa's many little lanes, after a morning at the beach and the sand still sticking. The spaghetti pale pink from the cream and freshest prawns. Washed down with a cold Peroni that tasted of the sea from my salty lips...

But anyway...as I observed the girls giggling amongst themselves, talking about their upcoming trip to Ibiza - snap - and the men, who were quite dull and charmless, I asked myself could I do this? I always joked with girlfriends that I/we could, that it would be fun for a few months, years, jetsetting around the world, the best restaurants, clothes, gifts. But sitting there, with one of them leering in between upteenth toasts and the other groping me when the girls had gone, I realised I couldn't. There was no witty conversation or anecdotes that even if I'd heard at countless dinner parties I could still smile back on to the first time I'd heard it. And I thought I could do it because I thought I could handle the sexual part of it - being open to pretty much anything. But the idea of touch, of fucking, of bodies slipping past each other in bed during sleep, no. I love my shoes and travel and fois gras and drugs and I would love my lingerie to come from IM Boutique.

But just not enough.

Going To Tetsuya's Tonight

...and can't take photos! Boo!

(Not too boo though) :-)

Days Like This

Maybe it's the up and down in me that makes me peak with happiness on days like this.

After a huge night last night, waking up after a few hours sleep and the kiss of a stranger still on my lips, and the day is beautiful. "Your eyes"...Breakfast at local favourite Lumiere with D, surrounded by lovey dovey gay boys and gorgeous dogs, two nutters still laughing after laughing the night away. Lots of coffee under a blue sky. Pancakes, sour cherries. Then a stop at my favourite butcher, the old school boys who flirt and cut up a whole lamb for my six cutlets. And some milk fed veal, for involtini that I'll make maybe this week. And the drive home, under a blue dome, with the window down and Lovelight loud and thumpy, and my heart soars.

And it's only lunchtime.

Thank You

"There will always be girls more beautiful than you. There will always be girls more interesting than you.

But there will never be one person that is all that you are".

Una Stronza

I like dangerous men.
Can you have relationships with them?
What is a relationship?
Can you be with one person...indefinitely?
No.
I want dangerous men.
But one day I also want to fare una passeggiata, cook dinner together, teasing, have boring sex.
I want.
I want him.
And him.
And you.
But now I just want to dance.

Sydney In Late Autumn

Driving home in the afternoon and the city is just bathed in gold. It's a spectacular sight.

Camera phone photos while driving

The Tax

Is going to the accountant. Hurrah!

It has taken, what, six months, to get to this point, and there is work to do together with the accountant, but at least it is compiled, reconciled, and now, en route.

Pray for me.