Qu'ils mangent de la brioche

Personally, I don't think that the lady was likely to have uttered the above phrase, but the distance between her lifestyle and that of the wretched masses did not win her any sympathy. Pay heed, residents of the Silo Apartments!

The cake featured above is a little strawberry tea cake that Henry and I managed to cook this afternoon. I knocked off early today as Jen had an obstetrician appointment today. Well... at least Jen thinks that it was an obstetrician that she saw, they don't really introduce themselves, part of an ~~obnoxiously superior~~ [ahem] ~~socially dysfunctional~~ interesting manner whereby the patient appears ~~a mere obstacle to a big fat paycheck~~ a secondary concern.

But enough doctor baiting! I was talking cake, and today in order to satisfy the eager el duce I opened up the cupboard, grabbed the flour and had a think about what we could whip up.

Recipes? Pfft! Amateur hour. Working off an apple tea cake variation that I know well, we got some strawberries, quartered them and had ourselves a decent little cake. As someone who doesn't like any kind of icing, I throw on the streusel as a concession to the sweet toothed members of the clan (that is, everybody but me).

Thankfully, the experiment paid off and we had half the cake knocked off by bedtime. If I am lucky, there may be a few crumbs left for me to lick up when I get home from work tomorrow. No matter, cake exists to be eaten, that's my philosophy. It has served me well for many years.

Comments

Jim Klenke said…

None for me? It looks great.

8 July 2008 at 21:48

Debbie Courson Smith said…

My daughter oversaw this photo and now wants me to make that cake...but WITH frosting, of course.

8 July 2008 at 23:51

iBlowfish said…

I should give you a credit for baking those delicious cake with no recipes. The story behind this picture makes this post more interesting. Cool.

9 July 2008 at 02:23

EG CameraGirl said…

It looks really good! If I hurry I might get there BEFORE you get home from work and... ;-)

9 July 2008 at 09:30

Kris McCracken said…

No, they were both very good and there was some left!

10 July 2008 at 11:53

Hold me now, oh hold me now, until this hour has gone around. And I'm gone on the rising tide, to face Van Dieman's Land

Theme Thursday again, and this one is rather easy. I am Tasmanian, you see, and aside from being all around general geniuses - as I have amply described previously - we are also very familiar with the concept of WATER. Tasmania is the ONLY island state of an ISLAND continent. That means, we're surrounded by WATER. That should help explain why I take so many photographs of water . Tasmania was for a long time the place where the British (an island race terrified of water) sent their poor people most vile and horrid criminals. The sort of folk who would face the stark choice of a death sentence , or transportation to the other end of the world. Their catalogue of crimes is horrifying : stealing bread assault stealing gentlemen's handkerchiefs drunken assault being poor affray ladies being overly friendly with gentlemen for money hitting people having a drink and a laugh public drunkenness being Irish Fenian terrorist activities being Catholic religious subversion. ...

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral...

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke...

This will hurt me...

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