Flan de Coco sans Ron

Cuban Spectacular tomorrow night at Loz's. Jacs came over tonight - we had dinner, some pop, and made Cuban head paraphernalia (copied from a pic found on the net, and made from $2 shop flowers and supermarket headbands, and leftover curtain trimmings!). Spectacular, if I do say so myself!

Also made Coconut Rum Flan - but with no rum, as rumour has it ample will be consumed tomorrow (that, and the Liquor Land was shut). I was about to say Vive la Cuba, which I know is obviously incorrect, but the sentiment is the same!

Feaster Funday & Fireworks

The rest of my Easter weekend was lovely - my folks came to visit on Sunday so it gave me an excuse to potter around the kitchen for a bit (and eat like a glutton once they were here!). I made a spinach and chorizo soup (courtesy of the weekend paper), roast lamb - it was Easter, after all - and an Indian spiced eggplant dish that I found on a blog (am I obligated to say where? Is it like a shout out?) and a pear tart tartin (a la Jamie). The tart was garnished with thyme, which I was a little unsure about, but it was de-licious.



My mum had also finished some curtains for my house:



They are now in my bedroom and although I recently turned 30, they are very childish. However I adore them as I think I always wanted a candy-striped room (and if I didn't, then I do now!). What's the point of being a grown up and paying a mortgage if one can't be dreadfully indulgent - like eating fruit loops for breakfast and nice cream for lunch, or wearing your pyjamas all day long.

The other highlight was the arrival of the firecrackers my youngest brother gave me for my birthday. I have not been more excited about anything, ever.





Isn't this one cute? Mel and I snuck down to the park last night after dinner and let this one and a bee-like one off thinking they would be sweet and innocent fireworks...but they were huge and I did a girly scream (OK, by huge I mean a few metres, but as we only expected sparklers you can imagine how scary it was!). We'd also taken down one called 'rock and roll' but we were too scared to let it go as it was about three times the size as the others. Pathetic!

Incidentally - when I was given the firecrackers, the bag was stuffed full of pyrotechnic goodness. When my parents, the fireworks mules, delivered it to me several months later it was noticeably diminished in size. I brought this up at the time but received no proper response. Last night, Mel and I did an inventory (little known to my fireworks thief/ves, there was a list of the crackers included on the bag). Several - including the intriguingly named 'King of Kings' - were missing. I 'spose at lease the dirty stealer had good taste! I call this mystery: The Case of the Missing Bangers. Any clues can be left on this blog (Dad or J, as prime suspects either 'fess up or at least dob in each other).

Maundy Thursday, Great Friday and Somewhat Sore and Sorry Saturday

Well, my Easter has, so far, been about a lot of celebrating. We kicked it all in with a work lunch on Wednesday just gone - the social club (which as of last year's Christmas party - when I drunkenly nominated myself! - I am now on) had an Easter lunch for all. It was a spread of DIY sambos, tacos, hot diggities and salad....and my absolute best thing ever - a chocolate fountain!



This is prior to the chocolate flowing freely (I was too caught up with dipping and eating to be taking any snaps!). It was heavenly - fruit is so much nicer when covered in warm fountained chocolate! The lady at work who own this also owns - wait for it - TWO jumping castles!! She is party central, obviously.

On Thursday I took full advantage of the public service half day and legged it home right after our big team meeting (which should really be called a team eating. It was delicious but gross...and we do it every month! One colleague had made gingerbread, the cakey sort, and another had made this sponge, soaked in baileys and then layered with chocolate mousse and coated in whipped cream and flake chocolate. I made a 90s style spinach-dip-in-cob-loaf, 'cept it wasn't a cob loaf as they'd run out.

You would think, after that grossness, that I would have sensibly hung up my stomach for the afternoon...but no. Naomi came over and we made baklava for a party the next day, drank lots of wine, jumped in the pool and made a few tasty pizzas to knock the night off. The baklava was fun to make - so much easier than I'd thought - and was a huge hit at the Good Friday bbq we headed to the next day.



The party was held by a guy at work who we hardly know. He came up to me a few weeks ago and said, 'What do you do at Easter?'. Not wanting to sound uncool, or like someone who doesn't have set things to do at Easter, I think I mumbled that I usually go camping (this is a lie. I have been camping at Easter once. I love camping, but it can hardly be considered my Easter tradition). He then said he has a Good Friday party every year, and as I am in his extended neighbourhood, I should come. So I did! It was actually a lot of fun - an eclectic mix of his neighbours, family, and one or two other people from work. Naomi and I went with two other friends, and the four of us mingled and drank Great Fridays (a cocktail made from vodka, elderflower cordial, white wine, apple juice and soda). The host served up a seafood bbq (although I was pleased to observe that a seafood bbq still included the humble snag!) which consisted of oysters (fresh), 'rock-and-roll mussels' (I think his concoction - they looked like mussels with tomato sauce and cheese on the bbq. I didn't try them as I was too busy gnawing on some crab),crab (obviously) and fish. Later, besides our fabulous baklava, there was the most amazing pav I've ever eaten - the bottom bit was almost baked cheesecake style, yet still meringue-y and good. I threw my congratulations on the poor woman who'd made it many times throughout the afternoon, and I now have a feeling she started avoiding me when I came to congratulate her 'just one more time'.

So feeling it a little today! Heading over to Bryce's for Easter Saturday Games tonight (which means I'll take scrabble but we won't play it!). He sent me a message saying that he read that alcopops (or bitch piss, as my sister calls them!) are going to be banned, so that is the order of the evening. Just in case we can never have them again, you understand.

Autumn

Tonight, walking across a sports field at Centennial Park on my way to netball (yeah I play twice a week; it's the only guaranteed way I'll exercise!), it felt positively Autumnal. I'm not sure what it was - perhaps that the lights was that tad darker than usual, that the air although balmy was threatening a slight chill, or that the trees were ever so slowly beginning to look more threadbare.

I adore Autumn, it is absolutely my favourite season. I'm not sure whether it's the anticipation of the change of seasons that I like so much - I like Spring for the same reason. But while Spring is adorable and fresh, Autumn is mature and cosy. Spring is the friend you'd go out with all night partying but Autumn you'd spend your Sunday with, savouring company and mellowness. Mellow, that's exactly the word for Autumn. I've always felt sorry for the Northern Americans, having their considerably shabbier 'Fall'. Really does not have the same sophistication at all!

I made soup again this morning - another very Autumnal thing (and that's another reason I like Autumn - how awesome is the word Autumnal?!). It was a spinster meal - that is, something that can be made cheaply, quickly and in a portion for one. Now that I'm living by myself this is essential, if somewhat depressing! Anyhoo it was an awesome Autumn soup, and I'm going to whack the recipe down so as a) not to forget it and b) encourage other spinsters (or bachelors, or very non greedy couples!) to make it too!

Chicken and Corn soup
* Chicken stock - a cup or so I guess (I still have some home made stuff, but any would do) (heavens - for someone who has only just made their first batch of stock ever, that was horrendously smug. I always hated people who did that - talked as if home made stock was the be all and end all, and now look at me! I apologise. Use any darn ol' stock you like, and then tell me where to shove it when it still tastes just fine!)
* Chicken breast (I used about half)
* A few spoonfuls of tinned creamed corn (gross! This was not purchased by me, I swear!)
* A glug of soy sauce
* Chives, or any other fresh herb that may go well such as delicious coriander
* Fresh or frozen corn, if you have it (I didn't and it was still good but I've made it before and it was delicious with as well)

Heat the stock, and poach the chicken breast in it for about 10 mins (I did this while in my shower). When showered, or after time is up, remove the chicken breast and shred it. Not very easy to do when you are trying to simultaneously eat toast, however it is manageable. Add the creamed corn, fresh corn if using, the soy and heat again for another 5 minutes (or enough time to gulp down the rest of the toast). Snip chives over the top, pack into cute lunch thermos, and there you have it - a Autumnal spinster meal in a jiffy!

I reckon you could almost whack some chili in this if so inclined - but it was bloody lovely just as it was with some hot toast for dunkin'. This spinster lark can sometimes taste AOK!

There's no prize for second place

Netball grand final this evening, and as you may suspect from the title - we lost (although I told a bit of a lie - we got trophies, chocolates and vino, so there was a wee prize for 2nd!). By about 11 or 12, can't remember which. Having said that it was a good game - which was unexpected as the team we played against are notorious for being rough and unfair players. I have to say though, the umpires were on the ball and it was a really fair game...which is a pity, cos I'd like to feel that we were robbed! The team that lost to us last week - and came third overall - came down to support us (or not support the other team might be more accurate!). So they rocked up with beers and snacks and cheered us on - it was tops having a fan base for the first and probably last time ever!

Our team has only been playing together for two seasons now, and we're not too bad (I should point out that we came 2nd in Division 4 so we're hardly Australian champs or anything!). Most of our team are young mothers, and we all only met each other when we started playing, so all things considered we're doing quite well. We came about third or fourth last time (again in the lowest division!) and didn't win a trophy - so our captain had them made for us, god love her! It's tops that tonight we got them in a real presentation and everything! Mind, I'm not that enamoured with trophies and it'll be lucky if it makes it past my spring clean.

I would also like to share with you my Easter Tree, as named by Jacs! I found some very cool plants on the way home the other day - they're hard to explain, the but the leaves are kinda joined to the top like a spiral. As it happens I have them placed next to my Easter Egg nest (well, a lady needs her choccy!) and voila, an instant Easter Tree!

Hurrah for weekends!

I've a feeling I'm going to gush about how fabulous this weekend has been. You already heard me wax lyrical about the wonders of Mel after our drinks on Friday - please be assured it continues throughout the next day! We had a delicious breakfast together on her birthday morning (at Kelby's in Marrickville, they sponsor my netball team). I had corn and sweet potato fritters with bacon and maple syrup and greens; she had the veggie big breakfast. Delicious and unfinishable (and I am greedy, people). Helped her do the party shop and then cycled over to hers in my finery for what was a fantastic party.

Although I've known Mel a million years, and we have mutual friends, we don't really have the same crew. Having said that I know nearly all of her mates, which made the party perfect - no awkward 'get to know you' ones, but I see them so rarely that when I do, there is always oodles to talk about. The perfect party. Drinks, chats, laid back eats, a late night game of bingo, and realising the sun is about to come up as you pedal your sorry arse home! Here's her cake (please note Sexy Steve, who shortly after suffered third degree burns to his left hand side, in the middle of the cake):



And Mel, after blowing out said cake:



As you can imagine then, this morning (well, later this morning!) I wasn't as fresh as a daisy. Got a message from my mate Loz early in the day - we'd planned to catch up - and I could have sworn that I replied, in that crazy state between awake and asleep. Apparently I didn't. I also seem to recall hearing lots of people turn up to the dude upstairs' place, and if that actually happened, it was his 29th birthday today and he seemed to have quite the early morning get together! But who can say.

Instead, me, Jacs and a wee bit later on Loz headed into the Botanic Gardens, where we wiled (I actually just checked spelling on that one!) the day away. FINALLY - a platter and some pop!



Admittedly poorly photographed, and outside, but delicious nonetheless. Sunny day, Sydney harbour, good mates, three types of vino, the weekend papers - what more could a girl desire?



Loz, catching some sun!

We stopped for a cheeky cocktail at the Opera Bar on the way home (I had 'An Apple A Day'. Try telling me that's not a health drink!) and I'm now relaxing at home after eating a surprisingly good fridgey tuna bake.

Hurrah for weekends!

Happy 30th Mel!

I've known Mel for 20 years next year, we worked out recently (20 sounds so much more impressive than 19, which is the actual count at present). I met her on the very first day of high school. I remember really liking her, but wishing she wasn't friends with the bespectacled girl she knew from primary school. Soon enough we were besties (in my teenage cruelness, I don't really remember what happened to glasses girl), and had a relationship that was characterised by me not knowing the difference between Prince and Queen, absurd gags relating to Libawyans (don't ask), typical outback scenes and a frightening crush on Peter Scutty. I also remember busking (I played flute, she played sax: a match made in torturer's heaven), Mel accidentally cutting her underarm shaving at Nanna Vi's, and a sleepover at her place where we used her brother's computer to draw pictures of vomit.

Mel moved to Sydney at the end of year 7. I often wonder how we remained in contact, let alone friends. I had family in Sydney and she in Wagga, and as luck would have it we seemed to be going through similar phases at roughly the same time. I had an absolute penchant for cherry docs around the same time she acquired them, and I am sure our mutual teenage love for incense went unsurpassed.

Fast forward til we're 18. I'd just moved back to Sydney and Mel was the first guest to show up at my shabby student accommodation, wielding a huge basket full of fresh produce (something I was destined not to see for at least another 3 years). She made me feel at home in an unfamiliar place. I have always felt that if she hadn't shown up I would never have been able to feel like myself there.

That year, we initiated Happy Week. It went, roughly, like this:
Me: Wow, there are so many happy hours here in the big smoke!
Mel: Yeah, I reckon there would easily be one every night.
Me: You could go to one every night for a week, easily.
PAUSE
Together: What a Happy Week!

And so, we researched and found at least one happy hour each night for a week. As luck would have it, a) we were on StuVac and b) we accidentally timed it so that Happy Week finished on Melbourne Cup day. We did three years of Happy Week. I am not sure whether these events were from the the first, the second, or the third year, but my highlights were: faux surfing at the Roundabout Tavern, drinking with City Rail Staff and scoring repossessed concession cards when they heard of our mission, $2 drinks at Paddy's (although was this every week?!), scrounging money for a taxi to Newtown where we ate nachos, Monte keeping us awake one morning (and being put down that avo) and ice cream at Mel's work for breakfast. I think the main thing for me was it was one week per year where I was guaranteed to get 100% Mel time. A Happy Week indeed!

I could go on all night - 19 years' worth, in fact. We spent a wonderful time overseas together (the sun always shines on Dingle, and who would ever go to Italy and be sober on arrival? Can't ride a tandem that way! And as for Spain - well, let's just all steal cheese from the local!) and since being home we have shared a couple of houses, an hilarious Darwin holiday (Baz we love you, and your incontinence!), one whopping heartbreak each, and now that we've bought properties in the same suburb I can confidently say that the future is looking pretty rosy (hurrah for easy bike rides home!).

So happy 30th Mel! I couldn't be happier or luckier to have a friend like you. Roll on Happy Week 2008 I say!

Lovely entertaining evening

Just had two wonderful mates over for puttanesca and honeycomb cupcakes (we ground up violet crumbles to use in place of the icing sugar; I assure you they were a taste sensation!). No pics due to too much chat!

Went to the Archibald prize last night and heard Tim Flannery give a speech on what it was like to sit for his 2005 portrait. Fascinating - he did fifty sittings, at 2-3 hours each, and spoke wonderfully about the intimacy and awkwardness of the relationship between himself and the artist. I adore him; he is a man who is genuinely interested and curious about every facet of life - even those that probably don't initially appeal. I think that is admirable.

Anyhoo Bryce and I polished off lots of vino and work it is a-calling tomorrow. Night!

Alphabet Soup!

Homemade stock called for one thing, and one thing only. Chicken noodle soup. And not just any noodles: alphabet.

These were a favourite of mine when we were little (which is not surprising: the noodles are cute and fun, and my mother's homemade soup is divine) and I was keen as mustard to try it again. Now, perhaps the youth of today are not interested in spelling, making words, or even just cuteness...because it was nigh on impossible to find the noodles! Teddy bear noodles, tick. Dinosaur, tick. Pre-made snack cans full of all shapes and sizes, tick. But no honest-to-goodness, cook-them-yourself alphabet noodles.

Conversation with Big Supermarket Chain Guy:
Me: Do you sell Alphabet Noodles?
Shop guy (gent in his 40-50s): Alphabet soup! (laughs). We ate that as kids!
Me: Me too!! So do you have the noodles?
SG: Hmmm we have tinned alphabet noodles in tomato sauce?
Me: No, no, I want to make SOUP.
SG: Hmmm we have chocolate alphabet letters? Maybe your kids will eat those if you're having problems getting them to eat.
Me: (injured) The soup is for me!!
My inner dialogue: And although I don't have kids yet, there's a world of difference between alphabet soup and chocolate letters.

Luckily, as I have said before, I am not a quitter (when I get obsessing, I obsess good!). On my third attempt, at a wee Italian deli, I found the object of my desire. Hurrah for Alphabet Soup! I am a dreadful photographer, and the photo does not do the chickeny deliciousness and parsley freshness of the soup justice, however let me assure you it was the perfect nanna meal before my netball game tonight (in other words, it's too early for a proper meal, but if I don't eat it'll be too late when I get in. So I eat at nanna o'clock).

Speaking of netball, I'll miss my match if I don't get a move on...

Rock cross buns, stock and samosas

Have had quite a lovely weekend (and still have tomorrow off, but that must be dedicated to my dissertation). In a bold but necessary move, I unplugged my tv, took one last look at it and put it out on the street. I have decided - particularly since my masters isn't exactly writing itself, and my apartment is way too tiny for the enormous set I had - that I am done with the distraction that wonderful tv provides. So far it's been OK, but then it's only been a day! But there's no turning back - the thing was taken from the street in minutes. Aaaah thrifty Marrick-villains!

So have spent my time doing lovely weekend things. Went to yum cha with my ex yesterday (which sounds like it could be frightful, given that it's a relatively recent breakup but I'd do much less pleasant things for yum cha). Then I went to a very amusing 30th last night - the Yellow Wiggle's! I went to school with Sam, who became a Wiggle when the former Yellow Skivvy had to leave due to illness. I'd not seen Sam in twelve years, and promised myself that I would not, under any circumstances, do the Wiggles Fingers, make gags about Dorothy the Dinosaur or sing Hot Potato, Hot Potato (or is it Mashed Potato? I'm not sure). Needless to say my resolve only held out for half a pink champagne, and he took it very charmingly even though my attempts at Wiggle humour were pitiful and unoriginal to say the least!

Today has been a bit of a cook fest. I made another batch of hot cross buns...but possibly due to my hangover I really buggered them up. Baking has never been much of a strength. I can make an enticing entree, a mean main, a delicious dessert...but bloody baking! How I wish people would say that I have 'a light hand'...but let's face it - I don't. My lovely friend Jacs came over, all anticipation, for tea and freshly baked buns. I felt like a fabulous and effortless hostess - until they came out the oven and were more like a primary school kid's art project than a culinary delight. We both struggled one down (see how dedicated to the 'one bun a day' project I am? I may not be a baker but neither am I a quitter!) and felt ill for the rest of the afternoon. They have since been, unceremoniously, dumped in the bin. Here is a picture of the Rock Cross Buns (and incidentally, isn't my wee milk jug just a darling?!):



The other project I had this weekend was to make chicken stock from scratch as I've never done it before, and those who have rave about it. This was as delightful as the hotties were horrendous. Chucked it all on the stove and let it simmer away all day, making my house smell chickeny and soothing. Perfect for the hangover I've been nursing! Here it is - in this picture the gross fat hasn't been skimmed yet (it's currently in the fridge, setting - ugh - as mum reckons that's the easiest way to get rid of it).




The other thing I have waiting to be cooked is a bunch of samosas. I'm off to the moonlight cinema this evening for a friend's farewell (screening of Donnie Darko) so I made some samosas that Jim (the guy leaving, he's off to Darwin for 6 months) (EVERYBODY is going to Darwin. It's so hot right now) and I learned to make at an Indian Vegetarian Banquet cooking class we did together several years ago. They've not been cooked yet - I did the filling, made the pastry, shaped them and made the yogurt sauce but I'll only cook them right before I go so they're still crispy and warm. I just chucked a bottle of vino in the freezer as well (stupid hangover making me forget to chill wine) so I am well prepared!



Oh here we go - a bit of extra time and here's the pic. It all looks rather white and gross for a food selection, however I ate a cheeky tester one and the insides are tops - carrot, peas, capsicum, spuds, onion and of course lots of tasty spices - so they don't really look bland at all!

After posting this I've given myself a pat on the back for learning how to place photos! Hurrah! Cut and paste. It was that simple. Ah technology.

The best birthday present EVER

I spent last night at Phil's house, celebrating his 30th. And I must confess, the absolute highlight was the amazing, thoughtful, astounding gift he gave me for my recent birthday: a painting (a commissioned painting, no less!) of me! It was done by a friend of his, Mel, from a photo taken of me at Dreamworld a few years ago. I'd gone there with Phil (we were visiting the Gold Coast for his sister's wedding) and although I'm not a fan of 'fun parks' we had a great day. I was terrified on most of the rides (he loves 'em and tries to make them even scarier by not holding on / dangling legs / etc) and the only one where we both had fun was the swing ride. The painting is of that. I adore it. The photo I've put up of it does not do it justice (my red feature wall is in the background, only cos that's where I have a hook. I'm too scared of drilling into my walls!) - but it is the most spectacular thing I've ever been given.

I also think it makes Phil a benevolent count-like figure, commissioning artworks from up-and-coming artists. It's dreadfully glamorous. He also got given one for his birthday by the same artist (his boyfriend, Evan, organised that one). It is also spectacular: 2 men on rocks near a river, about to jump in. It's done in wonderful earthy colours and the very feel of it reflects Phil's personality. The artist, Mel, actually came to the party. She was lovely but it was rather surreal to meet someone who'd painted you. Apparently more surreal for her; she'd had my picture in her studio for about 6 weeks, had painted me, and never met me! I didn't get to speak to her much, other than drunkenly gushing about her talent and the fabulous paintings.

Aside from all the decadent art-giving, it was a great evening. The perfect opportunity to take pictures of a) a platter (we had a delicious one) and b) pop (we drank many bottles of divine French champagne) but I was too busy eating, drinking and participating in merriment to bother. I stayed over there (they live in the east, I'm in the inner west) and arrived home this morning. Toasting my hot cross bun now and am going to go and eat it while staring at myself on swings.

I have a funny feeling this shot is going to be be published sideways. I've mastered basic uploading (but only directly from my camera) but I've not the foggiest how to twist it about. Besides, the camera battery just died, so there's little I can do anyway!

As you can see day 3 on the hotties is going quite well. Breakfast, today. With a disgraceful amount of butter, but then I adore butter. I also made myself a chai tea with a mixture my mum gave me a while back. You heat the milk, put on some of the spice / tea mix and simmer it a while. I think this would be better with more flavour. I also don't love hot drinks and am a bit over it already! My mate Mel used to work in a cafe in Dublin and she made the most delicious chai lattes (I don't think they were in any way authentic; they were spicy and sweet and frothy and delicious and I've never tasted anything like them since. Certainly the one I'm drinking now is a poor cousin of those delicious treats).

I've a half day today, and Monday off, so looking forward to a lovely extra long weekend. Going to the dentist this afternoon, just for a clean (so my fangs are in prime health to continue munching my hot cross buns!).

Now off to work, and to make a Very Happy Birthday phone call to my friend Phil, who has joined the coolest club in town today by turning 30 (and by coolest, I mean the lamest, oldest and worst ever!).

The Hot Cross Bun Challenge

I had hoped my first post would be, like the title of the blog suggests, about a delicious cheese platter and sparkling champagne. However, as it turns out, I am going to write about the humble Hot Cross Bun.

It is three weeks before Easter (coming rather early this year, hurrah for 4 days off!). Yesterday I saw the cafe downstairs from my office had a new addition in the tempting glass showcase - hot cross buns (and they'd also put their coffee prices up by 30c which means we're all boycotting, but that's another tale). Bought one, toasted and lashed with butter, and yummed it up. Inhaled. Mmmm mmmm. Then made my best call ever: 'I am going to eat one of these every day until Easter'.

Then the obsessing started. I got it into my head that store bought buns (even though mighty delicious) weren't for me - I was going to get baking. Then I spent way longer looking for recipes online than my work's IT policy states is acceptable for personal use. Anyhoo, I found one, got ingredients, and then promptly went over to my mate Kel's house and did no baking at all (although I talked about it an awful lot).

So now it's 7am, I've been up an hour and my hot cross bun dough is theoretically doubling in size in the next room (a quick inspection didn't make it any clearer as my morning eyes have forgotten how big it was to start with!). The mixing stage was tops - the only problem is, I don't have measuring spoons or scales. So I had to guestimate all the measurements (not good, I believe, with baking which falls more into the 'exact science' category). So I did some shonky 6am maths and even if it's not rising, by god it smells divine! The second I combined all the ingredients Easter had knocked on my door, clad in a bunny suit and handing out eggs willy nilly. It smelled exactly right! Now, fingers crossed that they actually bake!

OK - well as you can see from the above picture - my buns did indeed bake! I had intended to put the picture of them right here, to help with the dramatic suspense of story telling, however I'm new to this blogging lark and to be honest I'm delighted I managed a snap at all! They turned out fine. Possibly not as sweet as I'd like, but a good honest texture and the flavouring was divine. Nearly killed me driving to work with them in the car (which usually smells like damp but for once had a fresh baked bread, mixed spice, Easter smell to it). Hurrah! Roll on Easter! Roll on 'one hot cross bun a day' (although as I've eaten about three already today, I am sitting on a pretty good average. Screw you waistline!).