Monday, 30 April 2012
Thursday, 26 April 2012
Wednesday, 25 April 2012
Tuesday, 24 April 2012
I must relinquish a fact I have long denied... my oven is shite. There are so many hot and cold spots in it, I would illustrate it as a dalmatian. There is no way to achieve any sort of even baking. In fact, I seem to alternate between convection and grill settings in a cruel dance as I gaze through the glass front of my oven, vainly trying to compensate for my poor old oven's shortcomings.
They looked pretty. So pretty. But they were far to eggy and, besides tasting of omelet, fell soon after they came out of the oven because of the density. So the beautiful creatures before you are misleading.
Choux pastry: one.
Sunday, 22 April 2012
Saturday, 21 April 2012
He told me he liked my boots, with the most genuine smile in a rumbling bass. His smile was infectious, and it broke my heart that no one else around me seemed to notice. This was a dude, doing a more than boring job, absolutely delighted with himself.
On a rainy street in Dublin, he is a ray of sunshine.
Friday, 20 April 2012
My flat is littered with mementos from past productions, and each holds a reminder of beautiful memories and (sometimes reluctant) lessons.
My little theatre angel goes wherever I do, reminding me of the day I found my voice. A plaque, a sea shell, a worry stone... all small pieces that illuminate the parts of my life I never want to forget. And here, at my window, sits the little fairy that reminds me of days spent rehearsing in a cold, sunny winter. Days spent curled up against a heater, etching in stage directions and watching two talented men explore a script. Days spent in awe of one of the greatest actor's I've ever known. Days when even my thick wooly lumberjack socks couldn't keep me warm, but somehow the beauty of theatre did. Days I never want to fade from my mind.
Tuesday, 10 April 2012
The wind nearly blew us over.
Standing, bracing strong against the robust and unyielding Irish wind, my hands shook as I pointed my iPhone towards the stunning shore. The wind lifted the water into menacingly beautiful white caps, and as they broke against the pebbly shore, I shivered against the bright sun, squinted my eyes, and took in one more salty moment before the wind pushed us toward shelter.
Days like this, I dread the thought of leaving.
Monday, 9 April 2012
Happy Birthday, Adrian!!
The red things are meant to be Budweiser crowns... Bud has a weird new logo. Now, this doesn't rival the "French Budweiser Cake" of 2006 (Nessa if you ever read this you'll know what I mean), but they're cute and delicious. Chocolate ganache is pretty undeniable.
Also, I need to learn more about piping. It's fun, but I am barely mediocre at this point.
See, now this bothers me.
Sitting on the DART listening to this wickedly inquisitive kid, full of energy and questions, and his mother has not an inch of interest invested in him. Yeah, I know she probably puts up with a lot. Yeah, I know she's probably tired. Yeah, I know being a mother is tough and a full time job. But on the forty minute train ride, I watched this kid's curiosity and resilience slowly get shattered just a little bit by his mother's gross indifference. Heartbreaking.
Sunday, 8 April 2012
Friday, 6 April 2012
One of the best things about having friends: they help me eat what I bake, as so that I don't turn into a baby whale. And oh yeah, good conversation, laughter, blah blah blah.
Latest up to bat is lemon curd tarts, accompanied by their very naughty cousins, the dense chocolate mousse tarts. The strawberries are there to keep the guilt at bay. They work.
I am taking a photo of the sunshine every time there is good weather in Dublin. Hopefully, it'll happen so often it will become annoying.
Look! Beautiful, beautiful sunshine. I love the sun at the end of the day the most, when it's about to say goodnight, and it softens into something poetic.
Now, first off: apologies for the fuzzy photos, but my wee iphone could hardly stand up to the ambiance and nature of the restaurant. 777 is one of the loveliest, warmest, most exciting restaurants I have been to in ages.
First off, the restaurant itself. The warmth and quirkiness, the hard edges of the exciting artwork and the soft sheen of lighting gently bouncing off the mirrored walls. We were sat at the bar, which made for a surprisingly intimate little dinner (if you go in as a two, you won't get sat at one of the few tables, which are all large and held for parties of four to six). But no one minded being sat along the long, bright orange bar, least of all us. We were right in front of the bartenders, and I never tired of watching them pump out margaritas.
Next, the food. Phe.nom. Emphasis on the nom. From the moment the fish taquitos landed in front of us until we licked the last remaining morsels of the dulce-de-leche-and-apple-dessert-thingy off our spoons, we hardly said two words to each other... we were too busy stuffing our faces full of amazing mexican food.
Davi has always had the amazing ability to order the best thing off the menu. And the aul fella strikes again. His main course, a whole grilled red snapper on rice with a selection of homemade dips was fresh and a true delight.
But best of all, and I mean best of all, was traipsing through the kitchen to get to the coolest bathrooms I have ever seen.... the sink was deadly!
I heart having Thursdays off!