Halloween Treats

I love Halloween. I really do. I don't care that we don't really celebrate it in Australia. And I also don't care that it is a hallmark holiday and blah blah blah SHUSH I love Halloween.

This year I am watching old horror movies like Rosemary's baby and Psycho and maybe Rocky Horror will make a worn out appearance. I have also prepared these suitably terrifying treats.

Graveyard Brownies
Makes: 6 large graves :)

Ingredients:
200g unsalted butter chopped
200g dark chocolate, broken
1 cup brown sugar
3 eggs, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla essence
3/4 cup plain flour
3 teaspoons cocoa powder

Decoration:
Nutella
8 oreo cookies
Gummy worms
3 arrow root biscuits
Icing for writing

Make it:
1. Preheat oven to 190 C. Line 5 cm deep square cake pan with baking paper.
2. Heat butter, chocolate and sugar on low heat stirring constantly until smooth. Transfer mixture to bowl to cool slightly.
3. Add eggs and vanilla to mixture. Mix well. Sift in flour and cocoa. Stir to combine.
4. Bake for 20 minutes.
5. Place on wire rack to cool.

Decorate it:
1. Cover brownie slab with a generous layer of nutella
2. Remove cream from Oreos and crush. Scatter over the nutella until almost completely covered.
3. Break arrowroot biscuits in half. Use these as the tombstones. You can write messages on the tombstones with icing.
4. Use gummie worms to decorate.

Toffee Apples

Ingredients:
4 medium sized green apples
1 1/2 cups caster sugar
3/4 cup water
Red food colouring
4 long scewers

Make it:
1. Stick the scewers into the core of the apples and make sure they are secure. Prepare tray covered with baking paper.
2. Stir together sugar and water in a saucepan on low heat until sugar is completely dissolved.
3. Bring to a boil.
4. Return to low heat and let it simmer for about 8-10 minutes until syrup begins to thicken and turn golden.
5. Add a few drops of red food colouring to make it look extra poisonous.
6. Roll apples in the mixture. Allow excess to drip off and place on tray.
7. Repeat this process 3-4 times until desired amount of toffee has stuck to the apples. You can pour more over the apples on the tray using a spoon.
8. Allow to cool.

I Need Cash

To earn a few extra buckeroonies (and feel a little less guilty for buying more new clothes) I have decided to sell my many prized possessions on ebay. Wait hang on, I don't have any prized possessions. Ahwell. I can't help but notice some items of clothing sell for 50 cents on ebay and others sell for 40 bucks. Does anyone have the secrets to selling?

Also any tips on making some quick cash would be worth its weight in gold.

Just for laughs here is a photo of tayrah and I at the Biscuit Magazine launch.

Biscuit Has Landed!

It is finally here! Issue one of biscuit magazine hits the computer screens today!

For real journalists a little how-to section in an up and coming magazine doesn't sound like anything much. It is like walking for the first time and then after a few years of walking you look like a fool saying "Check it out guys! I can walk!" "uh yeah, good for you". But let's just take a moment to recognize my first ever published article!

Flip through the beautiful digital pages of biscuit and scroll through to page 44 to see how to make the fascinator I showed you forever ago.

The biscuit along with other charming little drawings were created by a talented kid called Craig Nelson. You should also check out Matt's tech section on page 13. Or just you know read the whole thing.

Now I am stuck for what to write for next month.

If anyone out there is an accomplished journalist or is an enthusiastic amateur like myself please share your pearls of wisdom!

Peanut Butter Cookies

"You really should eat something," is not a phrase I hear very often. As you may have noticed I like to eat. I especially like to eat things packed full of sugar and desserts are my absolute specialty (apart from pasta sauce which I am also world renowned for.)

These are possibly the most indulgent cookies on this planet. And by indulgent I mean I am fairly sure they cannot be legal with that amount of butter and sugar. But oh god. They are good.

This morning I put on my summer dress and then it was freezing all day. It is October! I should be beginning to drown in my own sweat after walking to the shops down the road by now. Therefore I conclude summer is not coming this year and I can abandon any plans for a bikini bod. Fat cookies, this is your cue.

As you can see, my kitchen isn't really ideal for elegant baking.

Recipe adapted from joy the baker

2 1/2 cups plain flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

pinch of salt

pinch of nutmeg

250g unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 cup smooth peanut butter

1 cup brown sugar

3/4 cup white sugar

2 large eggs

1 1/2 cup choccie chips

This batter makes a LOT so prepare two large baking trays.

Preheat oven to 175 degrees C.

Combine flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and nutmeg in small bowl.

In a large bowl beat butter with an electric mixer until smooth preferably with a stand alone mixer for those of you who aren't working with an old fashioned hand held. Add peanut butter and continue to beat until fully combined.

What's better than peanut butter? Peanut butter beat together with a mountain of more butter.

Add brown sugar and white sugar and continue to mix for another minute. Add the eggs one at a time and mix well. Add the dry mixture a little bit at a time and beat on low speed if unlike my hand held your mixer has alternative speeds. Chuck in the choc chips and combine with a wooden spoon.

How do you spell the sound you make when you drool? I think its something like hagllghghlghghlllhhhhhhahhll

Roll the mixture into small balls and place on baking trays leaving at least 5 centimeters around each because these grow to big suckers.

Bake for 12 minutes or until lightly golden. 

Allow to cool before transferring to a cooling rack as they are very soft and may fall apart.

Screw waiting for them to cool and gorge yourself.

Pulling Up My Socks

I am turning over a new leaf and reviving my blog. It has been asleep for so very long.

An old boss of mine once told me "Under promise, over deliver!" Unfortunately at the time I was peering over her shoulder at a drunk man who looked like he was about to fall over so here I am about to promise you my world. I can see this coming back to bite me in the ass.

Really I need to keep myself busy and away from the shops after I sold my soul to the devil to buy new clothes from Cue. (Dear new clothes, I mean no disrespect. You are the apples of my eye forevs and forevs)
I will post up photos of the full outfit once I wear it to the biscuit magazine launch party this coming Wednesday. Ah it is so soon! The launch issue comes out October 4th. Remember to pencil it in your diaries!

With any luck a blog makeover will lead to a me makeover and I will end up looking like this. Ah Joanie

Tomorrow I am planning on baking some peanut butter white choc cookies so get pumped! If they go straight to my chest and bum maybe I will have a hope of pulling off Joan's thang.

Molly :)

Mad Men

Yeah sure I thought I was a reformed blogger but hey. Love me for who I am.

Saturday night was a night of madness, dapper men and ladies primped and crimped every which way. The lovely Laura and Mr Strange threw a Mad Men party to warm there beautiful home. Cocktails were aplenty and minimal dancing to Edith Piaff was where its at. We even had a handsome gentlemen taking proper group photographs who's doppelganger is without a doubt the one and only Don Draper.

appropriately serious faces please!

All the Colours of the Rainbow

As far as I am concerned my first tie-dying venture was a success!

It was great walking past the other fields buzzing with beefy serious players wearing matching shirts with there number and team name printed on the back. To add to the intimidation they were wearing shin pads- the shinier the shin pads the better the player. But there we were, scrawny kids in tie dye shirts rocking up with only half the team there and only a handful that actually knew the rules.

The closest I got to actually kicking the ball was kicking a big guys foot which I don't think he felt but to me it felt like my foot had snapped in half.

TIE-DYING BONANZA

Yes I am well aware that I have been a slack blogger and therefore dismal friend but let's move past that.

This afternoon I TIE-DYED!!!! A hyphenated word that yells out fun!

My uni soccer team, 'Unbalanced Funk', have settled on tie-dyed shirts in order to be a greater distraction. Running up and down the field in bright colours to divert attention is the best strategy we have come up with thus far.

I feel like I have had a deprived youth. With ex-hippy parents and a colourful upbringing involving regular trips to Nimbin and Byron Bay you would think I would be a connoisseur in the art of tie-dying. This would be a big fat lie because apart from the one time I was assigned official rubber band tie-er when dying our school shirts I have never had a crack at it.

So this could be a terrible disaster but we shall find that out in 24 hours. That  is plenty of time for me to praise myself on my work before finding out it was a fail.

Last Day at GJ's

Today was my last ever day at Gloria Jean's Coffee. It was ever so sad/exciting with lots of hugs, food and even a card! Two minutes before I officially knocked off my heart started racing and my hands got clammy. It was the thought of being the newbie all over again at the bottom of the food chain. Being top dog at Gloria Jean's is so easy. It is my equivalent of fat pants and Oreos on an ugly Sunday. On Thursday I start at Cue Clothing Co. and for once in my life I am going to have to be sophisticated and stylish. Hmmm...

       From This                                                                     To This

              >>>

Lil' Cupcake

All night was spent dreaming of cupcakes and crocheting in front of bad channel 7 sitcoms. As a gift for my manager to wear on the RSPCA Cupcake Day, I whipped up this little cupcake beanie. Matt looks absolutely adorable in it but has banned me posting photos of him wearing the thing. (Maybe I will late at night and then quickly take them off by morning. Keep it hush hush :)

Fascinating as Hell

When Jil asked me to make a fascinator for an upcoming photo-shoot a part of me was slightly terrified. As far back as I can possibly remember I have never seen a fascinator that doesn't look like a bird of paradise is laying an egg on the tip top of your head. Granted I have never gotten a good look at one because I have been running away in the opposite direction. After a lot of research and trying to see how exactly you make one and at what point they turn ghastly I think I created something not totally horrible. I actually quite like it and wish it was normal to wear them day to day.

Check out how to make it and see it on a heavenly model in the online Oct 4th launch issue of Biscuit Magazine.
:)

Friends for Your Feet

The very thought of high heels makes my knees buckle together and my heels ache in anticipation. I tend to alternate between my wafer thin ballet flats (that are almost not worth wearing anymore because I have worn them down to the point that I can feel all the rocks beneath my feet) and my beautiful purple docs (that probably need a good polish if I should ever want to sneak up on someone because they squeak when I walk). But what if I could rebel further than the flat shoe? What if there was a heel even lower than completely non-existent? Enter the 'Negative Heel'.

Earth Shoes on and on about their revolutionary technology which has something to do with footprints in sand or whatever. The jist is that the heel is lower in the sole of the shoe than the ball of your foot. My mother insists that this is nothing new, saying that she had a pair in the 70's but who knows. She always insists she had everything in the 70's.

Mum scored a pair of eBay of course because they normally cost a fortune. The negative heel works out your calves three times as hard as walking in normal shoes which may be handy in combating my cankles. They do look very mumsy but if you want to rekindle your friendship with your feet these are the ticket. I've stolen her lovely black 'Faithe' shoes.

Apparently they are good for the planet too if that helps.

Creamy Cupcakes

It may have taken an hour and a half and a few trips up to 7 11 but I finally got through making the cadbury cream egg cupcakes i spotted on liebemarlene vintage yonks ago. They are ever so chocolatey with a chocolate ganache filling made out of cream egg shells and creamy creamy frosting made out of the cream egg fillings. Sure the icing may have come out looking like peachy dung but I assure you that is due to the icing pipe I fashioned out of a glad bag rather than the recipe. Before attempting to eat any make sure you have friends around you as a precaution in the event of death by chocolate and cream. Check out the recipe in full and other delicious creations like MARAGARITA CUPCAKES!!!omnomnomnomnomnom on  Homemade by Holman.                          

Rhubarb Obsession Continues...

Today I became a woman

I made JAM! Rhubarb and Rosemary Jam and it was a celebrated success.

All you had to do was let 450 g of rhubarb simmer with 450 g of caster sugar, stirring continuously and then grate 1 lemon rind (which i found out today a little bit late is the yellow bit of the lemon skin) into it with a little fresh rosemary, bring it to a boil for 10 minutes and VOILA!

It made alot less than expected so next time i would probs do about 500g of rhubarb and sugar. A half filled jar looks a bit stingey.

And yes I did have a grand time labelling them and yes that makes me super cool and not a nerd with too much time on my hands. Ya dig?

17 Going on 70

Bedtime generally arrives around 9:30. Saturday nights now mean Midsommer Murders and taste testing every type of tea in my cupboard. Money is spent mostly on pretty cardigans, stockings and funny brooches and when people ask how I possibly have so much free time my answer is simple. I am underage.
We are the forgotten ones. Those cut down in our prime, old before we ever had a real chance to be young. Those who would probably have a better chance of finding a like-minded soul in a retirement home. We are the December babies.
I am sure I am not alone. Everyone around you has turned 18 and suddenly you seem to be seeing less and less of them. Sound familiar? So here I offer you fellow doomed youngens advice on how to fake it.

1. drink beer ginger beer. Delicious and deceptive. Try convincing your people that it is a new, foreign, ginger flavoured beer.*
2. hang outside A barrier is just a challenge. Advise your friends to sit in the smokers section. Unpack the fold away chair in your backpack and join them. Sipping ginger beer could add to the illusion.
3. stay up really late This could be a good time to catch up on your studies. Whatever it is you decide to do in the wee hours of the morning be sure to not hit the pillow until you are sure you have sufficiently screwed up your body clock. That way in the afternoon you can wake up at the same time as your friends and go around saying how late you got to bed.

Frankly being youthful sounds rather exhausting. I don’t know why I expect everything to change once my day comes. The next Saturday I will probably still be here, in front of the telly with my little crocheted blanket covering my knees, watching another murder mystery unravel.

*I cannot guarrantee how effective this is but if you find someone who is not entirely fluent in English you may have hit the jackpot

The Tartlet Fiasco

Yesterday I embraced the domestic goddess within and spent all night making rhubarb tartlets. It took me an hour and a half to prepare them (on account of the rhubarb having to sit for an hour to soak up all the bloody sugar and then trying to find a substitute for brandy). Getting all excited about my culinary success, I placed them on the tray in a beautiful flower shape and opened up the oven. But why was the oven still cold? It had been on for 45 minutes. It is about 20 degrees in there. I would say it was probably colder in the oven than in the house. Ah yes, the oven was broken. Calling around frantically and keeping everyone up to date on my highly exciting wednesday night on facebook, I finally got a hold of an oven. Mother drove me over to taylor's house where I stood watching the tartlets in my pyjamas waiting for them to bake. Everyone there was getting dressed up all nice and pretty to go out on the town, offering me vodka and lemonade which I refused seeing as I would probably be sound asleep in bed in about an hour. Anyway, after all that the tartlets looked delicious despite a little bit of overflowing in the oven. May or may not have snuck a taste of one this morning. The verdict: definately worth all the hassel.

Here is the recipe if you have a working oven:

Rhubarb and Frangipane Tart
1/2 bunch rhubarb cut into 4cm lengths
1/2 cup caster sugar
6 prepared shortcrust pastry cups
90g unsalted butter
1/2 cup caster sugar
3/4 cup almond meal
1 egg + 1 egg yolk
1 tablespoon brandy (i used blackcurrant liquer)



1) Preheat oven to 180 C.
2) Mix together rhubarb and sugar in big bowl and let sit for an hour.
3)Place pastry cups in a beautiful flower shape on a baking tray.
4)Transfer rhubarb mixture to a saucepan and stir on low heat for sugar to dissolve.
   Let simmer for 3-4 minutes until rhubarb is soft and squishy and let cool.
5) Combine butter and sugar in a food processor. Add meal, egg and brandy.
6) Fill cups almost full with this mixture (they call it frangipane).
7) Top with rhubarb.
8) Bake for 10-12 minutes or until the frangipane goes a little bit golden.

Art

It almost shames me to say that i am not exactly a great lover of visual art. Sure it is pleasing to the eye but I can't seem to appreciate a brush stroke and the use of light and shade to a serious extent. But every now and then a photograph, a drawing or a painting really smashes me in the face and eternal love is born. This happened today while scrolling through my mothers photos on picassa. I have no clue who painted it or when it was painted. All I know is it is glorious. The vibrant colours, the way that the paint has been positively lathered on, the childlike illustration. Doesn't it just fill you up with happiness? So here it is for you all to enjoy just as much as I have.

Adorable Things

Walking through Elizabeth Arcade I was captivated by a little shop with little things. In this den of cuteness was possibly the cutest creation to ever grace my eyes. It is a brooch. Made of felt, beads and thin silver chains. And yes your guessed it. ITS A STORM CLOUD. When you walk the chains swing to a diagonal and it looks like there is some seriously thunderous rain on your bosom.











The internet has opened my eyes to the wild and wonderful world of screen printed tea towels. Lovely ones to check out if you like pretty tea towels that you never actually use but rather admire the beauty of:
two ruffians
third drawer down







But then I think, especially in third drawer down, who would pay 40 bucks for a tea towel that has been screen-printed for about 5 dollars. Well actually probably me. If I was rollin' in it. Maybe when I retire I can spend my pension on tea towels that I can drape around my house. It could be quite a conversation starter.

And in the spirit of autumn-almost-winter-but-im-only-embracing-autumn-now on etsy.com they have these beautiful autumn foliage hairpins. I love the colours of autumn. Strolling down Neuluns rd one afternoon was the first time this year I saw the changing leaves of autumn. Neuluns rd is shaded by huge trees which had all turned red and burnt orange. So get in the spirit and put these on your wishlist.

A Love Post

"My goal for my life is to fall in love with someone who loves me in return." I wrote that in my diary at the beginning of last year. Then I fell completely in love.

It is what everyone has always been told they want to do. "You want to fall in love. Then you will be happy"
I never regret meeting him but I don't know if I would tell others that being in love is what you need to be happy. The truth is love is the greatest pain you could ever experience. Once you let yourself fall you pine to feel that person, hear them speak, touch their skin, constantly. The time you have with them is absolute nirvana but it can never last long enough. And so the pain sets in again. The fear and emptiness. Your whole being is completely dependent on the existence of another person.

At the end of last year he went away. Every day I didn't hear from him made my heart sink. I don't think I have ever felt so lost and confused in my life. I had only known him for 3 months then. I hate to imagine how it would feel to lose him now. There's the fear again.

Don't go away.

Sick

Leaving on a jet plane

i have been rather crap about writing anything because I really haven't found anything worth writing about. But how is my best friend leaving for a year not worth telling everyone?

Caris left on a jet plane. Don't know when she'll be back again. Actually I do but I was on a roll with singing it like Peter, Paul and Mary.

She has been gone for a total of five days an I feel like she has disappeared without telling me. I keep worrying about whether she is safe and having fun. I hope that she is meeting people and falling in love. But she had better not like anyone more than me. I hope that this is the making of her but that who she really is never changes. I hope that everywhere she goes she will feel at home but she knows that back here with us is where home really is.

Right now she is in Camden London and after traveling around England she is going to live in Milan and then in Vienna and then meeting me in Thailand come December :).

Once she finally starts posting her travel diary you can follow her travels on www.mytravelscribblings.blogspot.com

I miss her

Hairdresser

Remember the name Esther Gallois because I am already on my way to becoming a world renowned hair designer extraordinaire.

I gave Matt a haircut. Probably one of the scariest things I have ever done. But I'll tell you for those who have never cut hair before, it gives off a sensation which is incredibly satisfying. You just want to keep cutting and cutting, more and more off. But you know at some point you have to stop otherwise they will end up looking like a peach with fuzz which I am sure is not what most people want from a haircut.

If you see Matt and you like it tell him he looks pretty. If you feel sorry for him tell him he looks very very pretty.

Also, this morning I found my new girl crush. She is this 15 year old girl (cradlesnatcher?) from the states called Olivia Bee and her photographs are breathtakingly beautiful and leave you feeling as if everything is a dream. On her website my favourite album is titled 'lovers'.

http://www.oliviabee.com/

I am Woman

I thought I was a sexual being, entirely encompassed by femininity. Germaine has put me back in my place.

Note: Uncensored Content

But let me ask you this. Just because I am not prepared to taste test my own menstruation does this really mean I am compensating for my lack of a penis? Apparently so. I thought that I, like all modern women, had accomplished independence from my gender. Alas, we are still the female eunuchs, desexualised by society. Supposedly.

And yes yes I know this book was written around 35 years ago but its still sounding its horn.

Is it just me or is there a point when you feel like extreme feminists just enjoy feeling like a victim? Dear Germaine Greer and co, I appreciate your efforts in fighting for equal rights. That was real lovely of you. But you got it for the most part. Why are you still going on about men not appreciating your sexuality?

That being said, read a few pages of the Female Eunuch and you will feel like screaming from the rooftops I AM WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR.

Dear Woman, You Rule

Alone

I remember when I visited Paris with my father when I was 14, we stayed in the smallest hotel you could imagine. It had three separate rooms and each was a bedroom and a bathroom. My father and I of course were on the top floor and had to cart our bags up the tiny wooden staircase. After a few minutes of his not so muffled swearing and wrestling with the broken doorknob we made it into our room. There stood a four poster bed next to a window draped in off white lace curtains. My Dad sat in the one chair and I on the bed with a glass of wine. Peering out through the gaps in the lace I could see the lights of Paris, I could smell the food and hear the people. I was in one of the busiest and most exciting cities in the world. As I sat and sipped from my glass I became confused as if something inside of me had gone back in the other direction. And then I realised what it was. I had never felt so alone. It wasn't an unsettling or disheartening thought. It just took me by surprise. And now I sit in Kenmore, on my couch, in my own home, at 10:30 at night and it took me by surprise again.

3/19 Lily St

Sitting in the Gloria Jeans in the city, sipping a chai latte and blogging. Pretentious git? Well that is just a matter of opinion.

Last night was spent at 3/19 Lily st, a night like any other, a night like every other, except that I realised that it is where I am happiest. I feel like I am breaking some sort of unspoken rule just by describing this place as if it should be a secret to the outside world, from everyone else. Because 3/19 Lily st is where people come to escape.

This is Dom's house which makes it my house, Matt's house, Ally's house and everyone else's who needs to sit and forget while listening to bossa nova. It is where I go to disappear, to be safe and to exist beside the people I really love. But I wouldn't tell them that.

I bet you could pick it from the street. Could hear it from the driveway. Could smell it from the front door. Just look for the run down shack draped in 70's decor. It is disguised beneath a cloud of cigarette smoke and every step you take the sound of a gypsy playing the guitar takes over.

There isn't much room but I am sure you are all invited.

The battery on my eepc is running out so I better wrap this up but I will probably be back at Lily st tonight.

Downtown Syracuse

Everytime I listen to Sufjan he takes me back there. Every christmas I used to go over to New York and visit my dad to check he hadn't frozen to death amidst the blizzards of Syracuse. It was a Sunday night drowned in a storm which had turned all that beautiful fluffy snow into slush lining the sidewalk. Julia was getting her hair dyed (which was a complete disaster just fyi) and dad and I had gone down the road to this dingey record store. It was one of those places where you just felt "damn I am so cool just for being in this place." The floor was just creaking planks of wood and the high walls were dressed head to toe in records and posters of The Clash, The Ramones and Sid Vicious snorting coke. A tiny staircase lead up to a whole other level of genius trapped in record sleeves. That is when I fell in love with holding the album itself. Owning a piece of the musician. I spent all the money I had left saved up for my trip on a Sufjan Stevens album 'A Sun Came'. To be honest it was probably the worst album he ever made but it was my first Sufjan. Listening to it over and over again, I learnt every word to every song and soon tossed it aside. But sitting on the bus this afternoon iPod shuffle revived my love for Sufjan Stevens and I was filled with what it felt like to be 12 in a beat up, American record store and being super cool.

Reminiscing instead of reading my history textbook. Have I made the right decision? I think so.

Bloody First Years

I have survived the first week of uni without spontaneously combusting from embarrassment.

In my first history lecture the room was packed. It was dark and solemn outside and under the fluorescent lights every body in the place was sweating into a coma. After spending a few minutes herding us into every available seat the room was settled. An exhausted, post middle-aged lady made her way to the microphone and began a sentence rehearsed every year. That is when the girl finally found the right room. Bustling in through the door, my lecturer stopped mid sentence, she ducked her head to avoid too much attention and sat in the aisle, not wanting to further intterupt by finding a seat. She was then addressed in a patronizing manner. "Is there a reason why you prefer the aisle to an actual seat." Everyone in the room could feel the poor girls heart jumping out as if it wanted to save itself from this girl's embarrassment. Scrambling to the other side of the room hastily the room was settled again. Not one person would know her name but her introduction had been made. This was my fear. No one wants to be that girl. You want attention to be paid by your own invitation. Not because of pity.

In other news uni is making me a caffeine addict. There is something about sitting in the great court sipping on a latte that seems so fitting. This is not good for my wallet. I could sleep during a nuclear holocaust so that really isn't a problem but constantly having a coffee cup in my hand is going to break the budget. And now I have decided that I really must try every cup of coffee every joint in the uni has to offer. Not good.

So now I have to head back into uni (wow that still sounds weird). Trust me I am going to be early for every lecture.