Below is an excerpt from what I posted on the Bucking Bull feedback form, under their question "What could we do better?"
You could try cooking your meat, particularly your rissoles, all the way
through. I ordered rissoles and vegies yesterday for an early lunch,
and the rissoles were quite obviously raw for much of the middle. I
would estimate they were cooked only a quarter of the way through from
each side, leaving fully half of the meat uncooked in the middle. I
returned the uneaten rissoles to the counter, where the lady who had
served me agreed immediately that the meat was uncooked. She initially
offered to provide something else instead, or a refund. Unfortunately
she couldn't provide a refund, apparently only the manager can do that,
so offered an alternative meal instead. I thanked her but advised that
I'd lost my appetite. She took my name and number to provide to the
manager today, when she would be in. I ate nothing before nor
after this meal yesterday, and had some unpleasant time in the toilet
barely an hour later.
Fast forward to a quarter to 10 this morning when
the manager called me and proceeded to deny that the meat could have
been raw, and if it had then it was the fault of the supplier. I advised
that I had returned the uneaten portion of the meal to the store, where
her staff had looked at it and immediately agreed with my complaint,
before throwing those rissoles and the ones still on display in the bin.
While
I did not return the food intending to ask for a refund, only to advise
the staff of the problem, I do not particularly care about getting a
refund. However offering other food when what was bought was not cooked
thoroughly isn't necessarily the best option, at least in my case. I
also do not appreciate having someone question my integrity, especially
when the staff member on duty was shown the problem and agreed with me.
Since I'm typing, I will also
add that the food from the bain marie was not hot. Lukewarm would be a generous description.
In short, what could you do better? Cook your food thoroughly. Don't make your customers ill.
Tuesday, January 01, 2013
Sunday, December 09, 2012
Lazy Lasagne
It may not be an authentic Italian lasagne (actually, there's no doubt, it's definitely not), but it's tasty and filling, has ingredients you can usually keep in the cupboard for ages, and relatively quick. Remind me to share my "proper" lasagne with you one day.
Take:
A slug of olive oil
1 leek, sliced
2 cloves garlic, crushed (or 3, or 4...)
Cook these up in a pan over high heat
Add:
100g diced bacon (or in this case, some triple-smoked ham I had in the freezer)
250g veal mince
250g pork mince
Cook until mince is completely browned. Switch on the oven to 200C or 180C fan-forced
Add:
2tbl tomato past
1 x 400g can diced tomatoes
1/2 can water
a decent shake of dried oregano
Stir it around, then let it simmer while you turn your attention to the sauce. If you're too lazy to make proper bechemel, give this ago. Combine:
500ml (2 cups) milk
1 packet white sauce mix
1 packet cheese sauce mix
Whisk over heat until the sauce thickens.
Place a sheet of lasagne on the bottom of a half-size (ie. rectangular) casserole dish. Spoon in a layer of meat, then top with another lasagne sheet and repeat until either you run out of meat, or your dish is 3/4 full. Place one more lasagne sheet on top of the last layer of meat, then spoon or pour in the white sauce mix. Top with grated tasty cheese, maybe a little reggiano, maybe some mozarella. Place in the oven and bake for about 45 minutes or until the pasta is cooked and cheese nicely browned.
Once it comes out, leave it sit for a few minutes.
And there you have it. As I said, certainly not authentic, but it's tasty. I think even better the next day.
Even so, it's not particularly pretty, is it?
Tuesday, August 07, 2012
Un-boring Bangers & Mash
But anyway, I wanted to share last night's dinner with you. Not in a "come on over and chow down on the leftovers" kind of way, just to tell you about it.
To me, there's just something about having sausages and mashed potato for dinner sometimes that really appeals, particularly when the weather is a bit colder. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell you, step by step, how to cook sausages and mashed potato. But I am gonna suggest a few things.
1) Use really good sausages. Not cheap yucky stuff.
2) Don't just make boring old regular gravy: try this, to feed 2 hungry people. Dice a tomato and an onion. After you've mostly-cooked the sausages move them to a plate and keep them warm. Put the tomato and onion into the pan with a clove of crushed garlic and saute until the onion softens. Then add a splash of dark mushroom soy, a splash-and-a-bit of Worcestershire sauce, and a tablespoon of brown sugar. Stir it all around a bit. Mix two tablespoons-full of gravy powder with a cup or two of boiling water and whisk to get rid of most of the lumps, then add that to the pan too. Stir it all around. Cut the sausages into big chunks and add them to the gravy, then let it all simmer till the gravy thickens.
This picture REALLY doesn't look appetising. What you're not seeing is how thick, dark, and yummmmmmmmmmm that gravy is.
3) Don't just boil then mash/puree the potatoes. I steam mine with a sprinkle of Vegeta on them, then mash them chunkily with a fork and a slug of warm milk, butter melted into the milk, a little more Vegeta, and whatever else I think will make a tasty addition. Even a little grated cheese. Mmmm, cheeeeeeese.......
4) Don't forget to have a thick slice (or two) of soft, fresh bread on hand to sop up leftover gravy.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Melbourne Parliament House
P: 03 9651 8911
Towards the end of last year, several of us ladies in the office decided to go for High Tea at Parliament House, which is an easy walk from the office. I fully recommend it, it was lovely.
While we were there, a couple of us then decided to hitch a lift on a guided tour of the building. There was much it didn’t take in, and we couldn’t go into the senate at all, however the guide told us an awful lot of information on the history of the building and the people who’d spent their working lives in it. Below are a sample of some of my favourite pictures from the tour.
Entry hall. Pictures of past big-wigs in Victorian politics surround the walls. I love the soaring spaces and high ceilings in this building.
So hard to believe how many volumes there are in this room. They have everything in them.
I got into trouble trying to take this picture! I just wanted this shot, with no-one in it, but the guide wouldn’t leave me alone for the 3 seconds it would take to do it (because she couldn’t leave people unsupervised or somesuch). I did eventually manage it, however she gave me the frowning of my life. The irony is that, once the tour was over, I went to the toilet... and could have wandered right into this room unsupervised. Go figure. I just wanted the picture.
Just one of these chandeliers would go a nice way to paying off a good chunk of my mortgage. I can’t remember all the details around them, but I think all up they cost, or are worth, nearly $300k.
The library. It’s not open to the public. I love the old vs. new feel of it. See the old staircase and the bookshelves? See the mouse in the bottom right corner? We weren’t allowed to move from a tiny area in the middle of the room, which is a shame as I’d love to explore it more fully. Sadly, I think the only way I could do that is to join Victorian politics, and frankly I’m too honest and nice for that!According to the website, public tours are conducted on weekdays when Parliament isn’t sitting, and leave more or less hourly from 9.30am. See the calendar on their website for more information.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Nash Gallery & Cafe
212 Ipwich Street, Esk, Queensland 4312
P: 07 5424 2424
I realise it was a while ago now, but in my defence I DID have an entire post typed up, then lost it due to being scatter-brained.
On New Year’s Day mum and I decided to go for a drive. We thought we’d meander up to Somerset Dam and, by lunchtime, had reached Esk. We figured we were hungry, so looked around for somewhere to eat. Nash Gallery looked interesting, so in we went.
The cafe is set up in an old Queenslander-style house and, although it’s not air-conditioned, the design of the house meant that the temperature inside was still quite pleasant. We decided, however, to take a table on the verandah. Lovely white tablecloths, with butchers paper over the top, and a pot of crayons to play with are dotted around. There’s something on the menu for nearly everyone, and we quickly decided what appealed to us the most.
P: 07 5424 2424
I realise it was a while ago now, but in my defence I DID have an entire post typed up, then lost it due to being scatter-brained.
On New Year’s Day mum and I decided to go for a drive. We thought we’d meander up to Somerset Dam and, by lunchtime, had reached Esk. We figured we were hungry, so looked around for somewhere to eat. Nash Gallery looked interesting, so in we went.
The cafe is set up in an old Queenslander-style house and, although it’s not air-conditioned, the design of the house meant that the temperature inside was still quite pleasant. We decided, however, to take a table on the verandah. Lovely white tablecloths, with butchers paper over the top, and a pot of crayons to play with are dotted around. There’s something on the menu for nearly everyone, and we quickly decided what appealed to us the most.
I went for the bacon pie. Back at school we used to get this regularly, but never to this standard. This was delicious. Possibly a touch too much pepper in it for my liking (given that I’m not a fan of pepper at all), but still full of flavour. It was a VERY generous serving. The chips were lovely too – crisp on the outside and all fluffy in the middle, and the salad was perfect – crisp and fresh, with dressing on the side so you could add as much or as little as you wanted.
Oh, and of course I couldn’t resist the temptation of those crayons, so left a short message for the owners. I even managed to convince mum to write something!
I’m a regular Picasso, yes?
Mum ordered the salmon quiche. This was also very good, although mum said it was a touch over-cooked – probably due to being reheated for serving.
Both serves were a generous size. So generous, in fact, that we couldn’t even consider anything from the sweets case:
We did, however take a bag of rum balls with us when we left.
The cafe doubles as an art and craft gallery. There are plenty of creations on display for sale, and if I had the $$ I would have happily purchased several. There are also posters with information on the area, and the house itself. I found it all quite interesting.
It also has disabled access – a ramp up the side of the house provides wheelchair access, and the toilet (one only – unisex) is well set up to accommodate people with movement challenges.
The scenery around Esk is lovely –with Mt Esk looming over the town there are some great sights. If you find yourself in the area around morning tea/lunch/afternoon tea time, give the Nash a go.
The cafe doubles as an art and craft gallery. There are plenty of creations on display for sale, and if I had the $$ I would have happily purchased several. There are also posters with information on the area, and the house itself. I found it all quite interesting.
It also has disabled access – a ramp up the side of the house provides wheelchair access, and the toilet (one only – unisex) is well set up to accommodate people with movement challenges.
The scenery around Esk is lovely –with Mt Esk looming over the town there are some great sights. If you find yourself in the area around morning tea/lunch/afternoon tea time, give the Nash a go.
Oh, and of course I couldn’t resist the temptation of those crayons, so left a short message for the owners. I even managed to convince mum to write something!
I’m a regular Picasso, yes?
Monday, March 12, 2012
IT’S SHOWTIME!
Woodenbong is a quiet little town approximately two hours drive south of Brisbane , just inside the NSW border. Well, it’s usually quiet, but sometimes Woodenbong digs through its wardrobe and pulls on its old party frock to show locals and visitors a good day out.
Yes, Woodenbong Show is on again. After being cancelled by the weather last year, Sunday 29 April 2012 will be bigger and better than ever.
The show gets started on Saturday night, 28 April, at 6pm with a BBQ tea and entertainment for all the family. The bar will be operating.
Then on Sunday morning the ring events start bright and early at 8am. This is a two-ring program and there are some new sections making an appearance. The local Border Rangers Pony Club will be doing a march past during the opening. Cattle judging starts at 10am.
Entertainment for young ones is on during the morning, with pet shows, novelty events and the animal nursery. During the morning there will be entertainment by two local dance groups, followed by a competition for all children from 0 to 12 years: as this is the Year Of The Farmer everyone in this age group is invited to come along dressed as anything to do with farmers or farming. These will be judged and the winners announced during the formal opening of the show at 1pm.
The Pavilion will be open after judging at approximately 10:30am with all the local produce, cakes, jams and handicrafts.
There will be a demonstration of chainsaw skills.
There will be a ute show so polish up those utes and come along.
A new event on the program is the Woodenbong Hotel Iron Man Competition, which will be run after the sporting events. If you fancy yourself good at farm work come along and compete against the clock. This should be fun, with a $5 entry fee and $100 winner-takes-all prize money up for grabs.
The Championship Dog Show is on again. Come along and watch the dogs going through their paces.
There will be an all day BBQ, Devonshire teas, tea, coffee, cold drinks, and the bar will be operating.
There’s something for the whole family to enjoy - catch up with folks you haven’t seen for a while: just a good old family day!
Come along and make it a weekend in this pretty little village as the Yowie Country Markets are run on Saturday, or just spend time admiring our beautiful scenery. There are a range of accommodation options:
- Woodenbong Hotel: 02 6635 1275
- Dairy Flat Farmstay (approximately 15km from Woodenbong): 07 5539 5923
- Crown Hotel Urbenville (approximately 13km from Woodenbong): 02 6634 1213
- Mt Clunie Cabins (“ten and a bit kilometres from Woodenbong”): 07 4666 5118
- Woodenbong Camping Ground: 02 6635 1300
If you wanted to stay somewhere a little more... populated... Kyogle is a mere 45-minute drive from Woodenbong, with plenty more accommodation options.
Please note, non-Telstra mobiles do not work in the area.
If you have any questions please note them in the comments section.
Hope to see you all there. Come and say hello to me ;-) if you can find me!
Monday, January 16, 2012
Finally, I can share this with you!
Well, folks, I have something kind of exciting to tell you. It's been so difficult keeping it to myself, so I'm so happy to finally be able to share it.
I have a new love in my life.
We met a week ago yesterday, and have been inseparable since Wednesday. It was just one of those things, where you simply feel a connection the instant you meet. We've moved in together and things seem to be going just so incredibly well. This isn't a rebound thing, I really feel like we'll be happy together for a long time. We're just so comfortable together and I know we'll have a lot of fun in our future together.
I'll be away for much of this coming weekend, and that's going to be hard, but we're planning our little weekend trips away together. It's going to be fun, I can hardly wait! I think we'll travel in all directions, wherever we feel like exploring.
We went to my Mum's on the weekend so she could hear the news first-hand, and my brother too, and now that my family know I feel like I can finally let my secret out.
So, here you are, folks. Meet my new Sweetie.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
One Year
Well, folks, today marks one year since I married someone who I thought was the love of my life. It's been an... interesting 12 months.
If you'd told me, on 18 December last year, that THIS is how my life would be now, I wouldn't have believed you. Despite everything that had happened to that point, I still thought somehow things would turn out alright. Well, I guess they are, just in a dramatically different way to what I was expecting.
I thought I'd be celebrating my 1-year wedding anniversary. I'm certainly not celebrating, or at least not in any "happ-happy-yay-we've-been-married-a-year" way. Instead I'm alone, no husband, reflecting on the year that's passed and trying not to think about what could have been, if he'd just been honest.
This week I've realised that, while it's not exactly common for a marriage to not last a year, I'm certainly not unique. I was chatting with the receptionist at the imaging place where I went to get an ultrasound this week, she told me her first marriage barely limped to one year before they separated, and another lady there said her first lasted 10 months. Both say they are now happily married to other people.
Yesterday I shared a table, and a cuppa, with a lovely older lady and her husband, John Nugent, ex-mayor of Ipswich. Both simply lovely people.They've been married for over a year now, it's a lovely story.
So, it appears there's hope for me. There is hope I'll get it right. Eventually.
And sorry I haven't posted much cooking or eating out lately. Let's just say I haven't really felt like cooking much for a while. Or going out. But that'll change, promise.
If you'd told me, on 18 December last year, that THIS is how my life would be now, I wouldn't have believed you. Despite everything that had happened to that point, I still thought somehow things would turn out alright. Well, I guess they are, just in a dramatically different way to what I was expecting.
I thought I'd be celebrating my 1-year wedding anniversary. I'm certainly not celebrating, or at least not in any "happ-happy-yay-we've-been-married-a-year" way. Instead I'm alone, no husband, reflecting on the year that's passed and trying not to think about what could have been, if he'd just been honest.
This week I've realised that, while it's not exactly common for a marriage to not last a year, I'm certainly not unique. I was chatting with the receptionist at the imaging place where I went to get an ultrasound this week, she told me her first marriage barely limped to one year before they separated, and another lady there said her first lasted 10 months. Both say they are now happily married to other people.
Yesterday I shared a table, and a cuppa, with a lovely older lady and her husband, John Nugent, ex-mayor of Ipswich. Both simply lovely people.They've been married for over a year now, it's a lovely story.
So, it appears there's hope for me. There is hope I'll get it right. Eventually.
And sorry I haven't posted much cooking or eating out lately. Let's just say I haven't really felt like cooking much for a while. Or going out. But that'll change, promise.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Nearly December already
Excusing my language, but love is a really f**ked up and useless emotion. I have a lot on my chest that has been festering away for a while, so now I figure what the hell, I'll get it off my chest and share it with the big wide impersonal world.
Nearly one year ago I married a man because I loved him. There were things that he said that I didn't believe, that didn't add up, but because I loved him I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and trusted him. Silly, stupid me. This is the same man that, on the night before our wedding, "postponed" it. That should have been the final straw. But nooooo, because of "love", I gave him yet another chance.
He ran out of chances in July this year.
Because of him my brother lost nearly everything. Because of him my brother quit his safe, solid, very well-paying job, on the promise from this man of employment, wage, and a home. This man promised that these things would begin at the start of January. By July none had appeared. No home, no job, no money. My brother had to sell his house to stop it being sold by the bank. His credit history is shot to shit. I nearly bankrupted myself to try and keep him afloat.
If that was not bad enough, there's the stuff this man did to me. I bought leave, took two months off work at the end of last year to go on a honeymoon, part of which would be meeting his family in Italy. I told him up front that I'd have to do the leave on half-pay, and wouldn't be able to meet my mortgage payments during that time. He promised he would take care of that. He did not. I didn't realise this until the bank sent me a very nasty letter (thankfully I'd been ahead in my payments by a fair amount, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been). But by this time I was far enough behind that they were talking about selling my house. Again, he said he'd take care of it. Again, he did not. The only reason I kept my house was I went to the bank, met with the manager, swallowed my pride and cried, and worked out a solution with him.
Let's not forget his constant jealousies. Never, at any stage of the "marriage", did we live together. I refused to live in an empty house, which I think is fair enough. He kept promising that "soon" we'd be moving into his "other" house, which of course never happened. Strangely enough, I took a drive past it once, quite by chance, and noticed that it had a sign out the front saying it was being auctioned the next weekend. When I asked him about it he said "yeah, it's something I have to do to try and get rid of this woman who's trying to get money out of me, but it won't really be sold". Ummm....... Anyway, he then said after the auction that it had been sold back to him. Aside from that being illegal, it just didn't ring true. But again, you "love" someone, you want to trust them, so you continue on.
Then of course there was the time he forced himself on me. I don't know why I didn't leave him then. Then, a few days later, I was feeling quick sick but once again he didn't believe me. Funny, he never believed a word I said. It wasn't until we got to mum's for him to dump me there and continue driving back to Melbourne, and mum took one look at me, checked my temperature and sent me to bed, that he believed I was sick.
Oh, and we can't forget the final clincher. Early July I went to his house while he was at work. I walked in the front door and... there were potplants. And furniture. The house was nearly completed furnished. Odd. I went into his room. It had additional furniture in it. And handbags. And high-heeled shoes. And women's clothing in the walk-in-robe. Next to all his stuff. I thought I handled it relatively well... I took pictures of everything, left his car and house keys beside the bed, and walked out.
When he called me later that evening I asked him who was living in his house. His response? "What do you mean?" Now, I thought it was a fairly simple question. He refused to answer it. So I hung up. He called me again later, and when I asked him again, this time he said "That's nothing for you to be concerned with." I asked him again. He said "It doesn't concern you". I may have yelled some abuse at him at that point. I'd have to check the recordings I took of the phone calls. He left me alone for a couple of weeks, then wanted to know if we could meet and talk. Meh, I gave in. He then tells me, at the meeting, that the stuff belongs to his sister, she had left her husband and was living there, but he'd been too embarrassed to tell me. Uh-huh. Yep, that's right, that's what he said. I have it recorded. Anyone else's bullshit-o-meter going right off the scale?
Everything was always all about him, until the time when it WAS all about him, and he was convinced it was all about someone else. No. The reason our marriage ended was that I got sick of trying to believe the things he said, and I got tired of waiting for just one thing he promised to come true.
Basically, everything this man promised never got delivered. Not to me, not to my brother. As we approach the one-year anniversary of when he did actually marry me, I find that the confusion, bitterness, and heartbreak is not getting better at the rate at which I would prefer. I know that, eventually, I'll get over this. I know that, eventually, I'll be able to move on, hopefully feel something for a man again, maybe even trust one enough to attempt another relationship. Unfortunately, knowing all of this doesn't seem to help speed up the recovery. I was played for a fool. How do you come back from something like that? In one way I am ashamed to tell you all about it - FFS, how f**king stupid must you think I am? But in another, if I don't get this out I feel as though it'll eat me alive, from the inside out, and I'll never get rid of the bitterness in my heart.
I finally trusted a man enough to have a long and serious relationship, I thought for the rest of our lives. You all don't know my history, so you perhaps don't appreciate what a gigantic leap that was for me. But I took it. And it tastes like shit in my mouth. The worst part is that, despite what he's done, the repercussions of everything that's happened, I still care about him. F**ked up, eh? The sooner I move on, the better. I've no doubt he has. There is almost nothing in my life that I truly regret. This, though, is something I wish I had never done, it had never happened. Even though my life, and my brother's, seem to be getting ever so slowly back on track, I wish I could rewind time - go back one year and do it differently.
Nearly one year ago I married a man because I loved him. There were things that he said that I didn't believe, that didn't add up, but because I loved him I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and trusted him. Silly, stupid me. This is the same man that, on the night before our wedding, "postponed" it. That should have been the final straw. But nooooo, because of "love", I gave him yet another chance.
He ran out of chances in July this year.
Because of him my brother lost nearly everything. Because of him my brother quit his safe, solid, very well-paying job, on the promise from this man of employment, wage, and a home. This man promised that these things would begin at the start of January. By July none had appeared. No home, no job, no money. My brother had to sell his house to stop it being sold by the bank. His credit history is shot to shit. I nearly bankrupted myself to try and keep him afloat.
If that was not bad enough, there's the stuff this man did to me. I bought leave, took two months off work at the end of last year to go on a honeymoon, part of which would be meeting his family in Italy. I told him up front that I'd have to do the leave on half-pay, and wouldn't be able to meet my mortgage payments during that time. He promised he would take care of that. He did not. I didn't realise this until the bank sent me a very nasty letter (thankfully I'd been ahead in my payments by a fair amount, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been). But by this time I was far enough behind that they were talking about selling my house. Again, he said he'd take care of it. Again, he did not. The only reason I kept my house was I went to the bank, met with the manager, swallowed my pride and cried, and worked out a solution with him.
Let's not forget his constant jealousies. Never, at any stage of the "marriage", did we live together. I refused to live in an empty house, which I think is fair enough. He kept promising that "soon" we'd be moving into his "other" house, which of course never happened. Strangely enough, I took a drive past it once, quite by chance, and noticed that it had a sign out the front saying it was being auctioned the next weekend. When I asked him about it he said "yeah, it's something I have to do to try and get rid of this woman who's trying to get money out of me, but it won't really be sold". Ummm....... Anyway, he then said after the auction that it had been sold back to him. Aside from that being illegal, it just didn't ring true. But again, you "love" someone, you want to trust them, so you continue on.
Then of course there was the time he forced himself on me. I don't know why I didn't leave him then. Then, a few days later, I was feeling quick sick but once again he didn't believe me. Funny, he never believed a word I said. It wasn't until we got to mum's for him to dump me there and continue driving back to Melbourne, and mum took one look at me, checked my temperature and sent me to bed, that he believed I was sick.
Oh, and we can't forget the final clincher. Early July I went to his house while he was at work. I walked in the front door and... there were potplants. And furniture. The house was nearly completed furnished. Odd. I went into his room. It had additional furniture in it. And handbags. And high-heeled shoes. And women's clothing in the walk-in-robe. Next to all his stuff. I thought I handled it relatively well... I took pictures of everything, left his car and house keys beside the bed, and walked out.
When he called me later that evening I asked him who was living in his house. His response? "What do you mean?" Now, I thought it was a fairly simple question. He refused to answer it. So I hung up. He called me again later, and when I asked him again, this time he said "That's nothing for you to be concerned with." I asked him again. He said "It doesn't concern you". I may have yelled some abuse at him at that point. I'd have to check the recordings I took of the phone calls. He left me alone for a couple of weeks, then wanted to know if we could meet and talk. Meh, I gave in. He then tells me, at the meeting, that the stuff belongs to his sister, she had left her husband and was living there, but he'd been too embarrassed to tell me. Uh-huh. Yep, that's right, that's what he said. I have it recorded. Anyone else's bullshit-o-meter going right off the scale?
Everything was always all about him, until the time when it WAS all about him, and he was convinced it was all about someone else. No. The reason our marriage ended was that I got sick of trying to believe the things he said, and I got tired of waiting for just one thing he promised to come true.
Basically, everything this man promised never got delivered. Not to me, not to my brother. As we approach the one-year anniversary of when he did actually marry me, I find that the confusion, bitterness, and heartbreak is not getting better at the rate at which I would prefer. I know that, eventually, I'll get over this. I know that, eventually, I'll be able to move on, hopefully feel something for a man again, maybe even trust one enough to attempt another relationship. Unfortunately, knowing all of this doesn't seem to help speed up the recovery. I was played for a fool. How do you come back from something like that? In one way I am ashamed to tell you all about it - FFS, how f**king stupid must you think I am? But in another, if I don't get this out I feel as though it'll eat me alive, from the inside out, and I'll never get rid of the bitterness in my heart.
I finally trusted a man enough to have a long and serious relationship, I thought for the rest of our lives. You all don't know my history, so you perhaps don't appreciate what a gigantic leap that was for me. But I took it. And it tastes like shit in my mouth. The worst part is that, despite what he's done, the repercussions of everything that's happened, I still care about him. F**ked up, eh? The sooner I move on, the better. I've no doubt he has. There is almost nothing in my life that I truly regret. This, though, is something I wish I had never done, it had never happened. Even though my life, and my brother's, seem to be getting ever so slowly back on track, I wish I could rewind time - go back one year and do it differently.
Monday, September 05, 2011
And now for something different...
This weekend I went up to Canberra to doggy- and house-sit for a friend. It was a chance to help her out, and a chance for me to get the hell outta Dodge... sorry, I mean Melbourne... for a few days. Looking at the cost of flights, I figured I'd just hire a car, and that'd give me a way of getting around while I was up there (for those who aren't familiar with Canberra, it is NOT a place to be without a car). I ended up with a Hyundai i30. I thought I'd share my opinion with y'all.
With around 30,000km on the clock, the little 2.0L auto hatchback sounded like it'd had a few too many cigarettes, and sometimes it seemed like the gears slipped when I accelerated. I put that down to, mainly, the fact that it's a hire car and probably been thrashed to death.
The base model (after all, we're talking about a hire car here) came with air con, MP3-compatible CD player (halfway decent sound from the speakers, once I tweaked the settings to suit my taste), funky blue dashboard lighting, 2 x 12V plugs, and not much else. Certainly no cruise control, which would have been nice on a journey where I covered just shy of 1,400km or thereabouts. Oh, wait, and I remember seeing side air bags on the drivers side at least, and 2 cup holders between the front seats... but anyway. Once I'd put some air in the tyres (attention anonymous blue-logo hire-car company, 29psi is not enough), this actually turned into a moderately comfortable highway drive.
The seats won't win awards for comfort, but neither are they anywhere near as bad as what you'll get in a Getz. Or a Barina. Or a Focus, for that matter. Despite feeling a bit sluggish and underpowered on acceleration, the car sat quite happily on 110kph once it got there, and coped quite well with the hills. Around town the steering felt fairly heavy, and the car isn't nearly as nimble as I would prefer, or expected. Much as it galls me to admit, the Nissan Tiida beats the i30 for handling easily (although I think it may also be a little smaller... it's certainly got a slightly smaller engine).
Fuel economy was fairly decent... mainly highway driving, with a bit of around-town at the ends, gave average figures of about 7.8L/100km.
Would I hire an i30 again? Yeah, probably. It's comfortable enough, would easily seat 4 people, or 5 if the people on the back seat were (a) friendly, or (b) slim-ish, and (c) not overly tall/didn't have long legs. Plenty of room in the boot for a few medium-sized suitcases. It's a good compromise between cost and comfort in the cars offered by this company - I mean, a Getz is cheaper, and a Falcon/Commodore is more comfortable, and smack-bang in the middle of them is where I'd stick the i30.
Would I buy one? Probably not. Maybe if I could get over my bias against Hyundais, and got a top-of-the-range model with Bluetooth compatible stereo and cruise control and all the other options, and then heavily modified it to dramatically improve the handling, and... who am I kidding?
For someone who just wants a car to get from point A to point B, they'd probably love this car. And I'm sure plenty of people do, cos it's been voted best mid-sized car a couple of times (I think), but for me, I like something different in a car. It's just a sad fact that the i30 can't compare to my current front-runner favourite.
With around 30,000km on the clock, the little 2.0L auto hatchback sounded like it'd had a few too many cigarettes, and sometimes it seemed like the gears slipped when I accelerated. I put that down to, mainly, the fact that it's a hire car and probably been thrashed to death.
The base model (after all, we're talking about a hire car here) came with air con, MP3-compatible CD player (halfway decent sound from the speakers, once I tweaked the settings to suit my taste), funky blue dashboard lighting, 2 x 12V plugs, and not much else. Certainly no cruise control, which would have been nice on a journey where I covered just shy of 1,400km or thereabouts. Oh, wait, and I remember seeing side air bags on the drivers side at least, and 2 cup holders between the front seats... but anyway. Once I'd put some air in the tyres (attention anonymous blue-logo hire-car company, 29psi is not enough), this actually turned into a moderately comfortable highway drive.
The seats won't win awards for comfort, but neither are they anywhere near as bad as what you'll get in a Getz. Or a Barina. Or a Focus, for that matter. Despite feeling a bit sluggish and underpowered on acceleration, the car sat quite happily on 110kph once it got there, and coped quite well with the hills. Around town the steering felt fairly heavy, and the car isn't nearly as nimble as I would prefer, or expected. Much as it galls me to admit, the Nissan Tiida beats the i30 for handling easily (although I think it may also be a little smaller... it's certainly got a slightly smaller engine).
Fuel economy was fairly decent... mainly highway driving, with a bit of around-town at the ends, gave average figures of about 7.8L/100km.
Would I hire an i30 again? Yeah, probably. It's comfortable enough, would easily seat 4 people, or 5 if the people on the back seat were (a) friendly, or (b) slim-ish, and (c) not overly tall/didn't have long legs. Plenty of room in the boot for a few medium-sized suitcases. It's a good compromise between cost and comfort in the cars offered by this company - I mean, a Getz is cheaper, and a Falcon/Commodore is more comfortable, and smack-bang in the middle of them is where I'd stick the i30.
Would I buy one? Probably not. Maybe if I could get over my bias against Hyundais, and got a top-of-the-range model with Bluetooth compatible stereo and cruise control and all the other options, and then heavily modified it to dramatically improve the handling, and... who am I kidding?
For someone who just wants a car to get from point A to point B, they'd probably love this car. And I'm sure plenty of people do, cos it's been voted best mid-sized car a couple of times (I think), but for me, I like something different in a car. It's just a sad fact that the i30 can't compare to my current front-runner favourite.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Amazing Women
I'm very lucky in many ways, one of which is the number of amazing women that I know. I've just finished reading a book, admittedly a rather trashy chick-lit, about women living in the American prison system. Although it's a work of fiction the author did an immense amount of research to make their experiences as real-to-life as entertainment could make. The book also has a list of suggested reading for anyone interested in learning more about American women's prisons. I've looked up a few of the publications listed and I have to admit it's been fascinating, if sad, reading.
But I digress. It got me thinking about the women I know, and how many of them are truly amazing. I can't and won't give you an exhaustive list, but I do want to share with you the ladies who have had a big impact on my life. Please, indulge me. And if you don't want to know, stop reading. What can I say, I'm feeling mushy.
First, of course, there has to be my Mum. I give the word a capital because I think it's worthy. This lady has worked hard all her life. First the farm, then as a nurse, then as a mother, and then as a single mother, raising two children while dealing with a marriage breakdown and having to get herself back into her old profession. At every step of the way she made sure we had everything we needed and as much of what we wanted as was possible (and good for us!). Beyond our childhood she has been there to help, support and guide us, right there behind us in whatever we decide to do. Even if and when she thinks we're making a mistake she lets us, and is right there for either support or congratulations when it's needed. It sounds corny, but every day I try to live in a way that would make her proud of me.
I met Vicki when she was in a long-term relationship with my paternal gene-donor some 20 years ago. She became my adult-friend, someone I could go to if I felt I couldn't talk to my mum, and I firmly believe every teenaged girl, or boy, should have someone like that. As I've matured the friendship has as well. She attacks life with a wonderful smile and such a positive attitude, it's an inspiration.
Sarah is someone I've known for well over half my life. We may not speak every day, or every week, or even every month, but I know that she's there. She's seen me go through good times, bad times, and everything in between. Even when half a country separates us, she's been there. She is intelligent, funny, sarcastic, and knows exactly what a good friend is, and how to be one.
Then of course there's Diana. Talk about an amazing woman. I won't divulge personal details, but her strength and courage in making a better life for herself and her children is inspiring. I met Diana after she'd made that decision, and seeing her overcome every obstacle that's been put in her path, and seeing her come alive, has been wonderful.
And let's not forget Mel. I met Mel when we were both applying for the same job, and she won it. That was quite possibly the best thing that could have happened. While I was handing the job over to her I started to realise exactly how lovely she is. Out of that experience I gained a friend who is also a wonderful lady. I have a tremendous amount of respect for Mel, she is simply an amazing and beautiful woman.
Naturally there are many more ladies I could write about here, these are just the first to spring to mind. I love that my life is filled with strong, intelligent women. I think I have excellent taste in friends!
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
I know people are well-meaning, but seriously, is this how they want the conversation to go?
"How are you doing, Anna?"
"How do you think I'm doing? I feel like shit. I feel devastated. I have no idea how to even start to feel OK again. Or trust. It was hard enough to do the first time, but this, now, after all of that, is infinitely worse. I can't even begin to find the words to adequately describe how I'm 'doing'."
But I don't say that, because the people that ask me that question really do mean well.
So I shrug, and say "I'll be fine."
Inside I'm alternating between screaming and crying.
"How are you doing, Anna?"
"How do you think I'm doing? I feel like shit. I feel devastated. I have no idea how to even start to feel OK again. Or trust. It was hard enough to do the first time, but this, now, after all of that, is infinitely worse. I can't even begin to find the words to adequately describe how I'm 'doing'."
But I don't say that, because the people that ask me that question really do mean well.
So I shrug, and say "I'll be fine."
Inside I'm alternating between screaming and crying.
Sunday, June 05, 2011
RIP Pulsar
This morning at about 5am my little blue boy was doing what he usually does at 5am on Sunday mornings - snoozing. He was doing this in the same place he's been doing it for the past month or thereabouts: by the side of a road in Portland, with other cars in front and behind him. This morning, though, was going to be different.
It was at about this time that a drunk driver hit him, and wrote him off.
Let me tell you a little more, both about me and about my boy. I do tend to have a habit of ascribing personalities to inanimate objects - I know this (and anyone who knows me would know this... just think of Fred). And this I did thoroughly with The Pulsar. So when I say "he" and "him" you know why. Couple this with the fact that I am a "car person" - someone who drives for the love of it - and hopefully you'll have a glimmer of understanding about my reaction to today.
This car has been in my family for 12 years - since he was new. And for the past decade he's been an almost daily presence in my life, manfully shuttling me where I need to go. We've been on long road trips together, just the two of us. We've explored the ACT, NSW, and Victoria. He's never faltered, never given me any problem - he's just soldiered on. I've faithfully serviced his little metal heart every 5,000km, usually personally. I installed a Whiteline works kit to firm up his chassis, gave him some schmick mags and low-profile tyres, and had someone install a 3.25" cat-back exhaust, so he could be everything his little 1.6L soul could be. In return he's been the best and most reliable car anyone could ask for.
In recent months I reluctantly decided it was time for him to move on, to give someone else the fun times and faithful service that I've enjoyed. I'll admit, I haven't tried all that hard: my efforts extended to putting a sign up in his window. I had decided I'd do it seriously after my sister-in-law was finished borrowing him. Obviously those plans are out the window.
It will probably seem silly to almost everyone, but the loss of my boy is gut-wrenching. The thought that I will never again turn the key and hear that beautiful purr of the engine, never "do" the Great Ocean Road again (which I'd planned on doing once more before he went), never curse about how rough roads feel with his oh-so-firm ride... I feel actual grief.
If there is an upside to this, and I always look for the upside, it's that no-one was hurt. Well, none of my family, at least. I don't know, nor care, about the driver and his friends. The other upside is that, although apparently the driver didn't stop, his friends did go back and call the number on the "For Sale" sign in the window. And they door-knocked the area to try and find the owner. Thankfully my brother had arrived just yesterday and he's handling it all for me. The resolution should be OK, so long as they keep to their word.
But it's just such a waste - of the hours of care and work I've put into him, and of a bloody good car as well. Sure, he was soon to leave my life anyway, but I'd had hopes of him going to someone, probably as their first car... seeing him on the road, maybe walking past him at the shops. One day he'd fly past me and I'd hear that gorgeous 4-cylinder 3.25" exhaust roar...
So, in closing, let me share with you some of his more photogenic moments. If I can face it, I might post a picture some other time on how he looks now... I haven't seen, and right now I simply can't.
One of our camping trips, this time in Torquay
Eyeballing the camera... so tough!
Freshly washed and clean
Not so clean after being bogged at Laverton train station
Staking his claim on new territory - when I bought my block
Showboating...
Overseeing progress on the construction of my house
Chillin' out in the sunshine in Sunshine
Waiting for me to get the hell down from the old water tower in Daylesford
That's how far up I was
One of the bushwalking tracks near Daylesford... yet another road trip
Lavers Hill... great devonshire teas there
Triplet Falls...
The Apostles
It was at about this time that a drunk driver hit him, and wrote him off.
Let me tell you a little more, both about me and about my boy. I do tend to have a habit of ascribing personalities to inanimate objects - I know this (and anyone who knows me would know this... just think of Fred). And this I did thoroughly with The Pulsar. So when I say "he" and "him" you know why. Couple this with the fact that I am a "car person" - someone who drives for the love of it - and hopefully you'll have a glimmer of understanding about my reaction to today.
This car has been in my family for 12 years - since he was new. And for the past decade he's been an almost daily presence in my life, manfully shuttling me where I need to go. We've been on long road trips together, just the two of us. We've explored the ACT, NSW, and Victoria. He's never faltered, never given me any problem - he's just soldiered on. I've faithfully serviced his little metal heart every 5,000km, usually personally. I installed a Whiteline works kit to firm up his chassis, gave him some schmick mags and low-profile tyres, and had someone install a 3.25" cat-back exhaust, so he could be everything his little 1.6L soul could be. In return he's been the best and most reliable car anyone could ask for.
In recent months I reluctantly decided it was time for him to move on, to give someone else the fun times and faithful service that I've enjoyed. I'll admit, I haven't tried all that hard: my efforts extended to putting a sign up in his window. I had decided I'd do it seriously after my sister-in-law was finished borrowing him. Obviously those plans are out the window.
It will probably seem silly to almost everyone, but the loss of my boy is gut-wrenching. The thought that I will never again turn the key and hear that beautiful purr of the engine, never "do" the Great Ocean Road again (which I'd planned on doing once more before he went), never curse about how rough roads feel with his oh-so-firm ride... I feel actual grief.
If there is an upside to this, and I always look for the upside, it's that no-one was hurt. Well, none of my family, at least. I don't know, nor care, about the driver and his friends. The other upside is that, although apparently the driver didn't stop, his friends did go back and call the number on the "For Sale" sign in the window. And they door-knocked the area to try and find the owner. Thankfully my brother had arrived just yesterday and he's handling it all for me. The resolution should be OK, so long as they keep to their word.
But it's just such a waste - of the hours of care and work I've put into him, and of a bloody good car as well. Sure, he was soon to leave my life anyway, but I'd had hopes of him going to someone, probably as their first car... seeing him on the road, maybe walking past him at the shops. One day he'd fly past me and I'd hear that gorgeous 4-cylinder 3.25" exhaust roar...
So, in closing, let me share with you some of his more photogenic moments. If I can face it, I might post a picture some other time on how he looks now... I haven't seen, and right now I simply can't.
One of our camping trips, this time in Torquay
Eyeballing the camera... so tough!
Freshly washed and clean
Not so clean after being bogged at Laverton train station
Staking his claim on new territory - when I bought my block
Showboating...
Overseeing progress on the construction of my house
Chillin' out in the sunshine in Sunshine
Waiting for me to get the hell down from the old water tower in Daylesford
That's how far up I was
One of the bushwalking tracks near Daylesford... yet another road trip
Lavers Hill... great devonshire teas there
Triplet Falls...
The ApostlesTuesday, May 31, 2011
Shroomin', man...
This year, finally, I managed to book myself into a fungi workshop with Alison Pouliot. Mel and I have tried before, but these things seem to fill up damnably quickly. So you can understand that we were happy there were a couple of free seats on a weekend that suited us both. On an overcast Saturday morning we made our way to Trentham.
As we got there we were greeted with a veritable trove of all things fungal, all freshly collected and labelled by Alison.
The workshop kicks off at 11am with a couple of hours in the Trentham Neighbourhood Centre where Alison instructs the group, and we learn about the different types of fungi, debunking myths around identifying safe ones, and finding out how to figure out what should, and shouldn't, either make you sick, trip you our, or kill you. We covered smell, pileus shape and texture, gill types and appearances, stipe forms... it was incredibly thorough, without being an overwhelming flood of information.
After a short break for a late lunch we headed out for the foraging half of the workshop. The place Alison took us to was a great spot, with both native and pine forest areas, and the occasional section that had been in a bushfire. This all meant that we could expect quite a few different types of fungi. Below are some of my favourite shots of the day... I don't remember what most of these were, but I still like the pics.
It's amazing the amount of life right under your feet, that you don't even notice. And beautiful it can be.
Even things you may not immediately think of as fungus...
This is an image a lot of people would recognise... but where are the fairies?
This baby managed to stump Alison, which is quite an achievement. It's not an oyster mushroom; it's not the mushroom that tries to LOOK like an oyster mushroom but glows in the dark and is bad for you... it's something else again. I still don't know what it is, but it was huge!
Check these little babies out! They were growing on a pine cone on the ground.
A lot of people might recognise these as puff balls. These really are an interesting little organism, particularly in they way they spread their spores around -- when the time is right, in a great big puff :-)
Even these tiny little yellow guys are important. How easy would it be to walk right past them without even realising they're there?
These cute little jelly-balls are fungus too.
This is one of the naughty ones ;-) Very popular with people looking for an... alternate view of the universe.
And these... these are the beauties of the fungi kingdom, I think. They are gorgeous, and the smell... absolutely beautiful.
If you have any interest in the fungi world I recommend you keep your ears open in Autumn and get yourself into one of Alison's workshops. It's a good day out, and you'll learn heaps. Plus a nice wander through the bush is relaxing.
As we got there we were greeted with a veritable trove of all things fungal, all freshly collected and labelled by Alison.
The workshop kicks off at 11am with a couple of hours in the Trentham Neighbourhood Centre where Alison instructs the group, and we learn about the different types of fungi, debunking myths around identifying safe ones, and finding out how to figure out what should, and shouldn't, either make you sick, trip you our, or kill you. We covered smell, pileus shape and texture, gill types and appearances, stipe forms... it was incredibly thorough, without being an overwhelming flood of information.
After a short break for a late lunch we headed out for the foraging half of the workshop. The place Alison took us to was a great spot, with both native and pine forest areas, and the occasional section that had been in a bushfire. This all meant that we could expect quite a few different types of fungi. Below are some of my favourite shots of the day... I don't remember what most of these were, but I still like the pics.
It's amazing the amount of life right under your feet, that you don't even notice. And beautiful it can be.
Even things you may not immediately think of as fungus...
This is an image a lot of people would recognise... but where are the fairies?
This baby managed to stump Alison, which is quite an achievement. It's not an oyster mushroom; it's not the mushroom that tries to LOOK like an oyster mushroom but glows in the dark and is bad for you... it's something else again. I still don't know what it is, but it was huge!
Check these little babies out! They were growing on a pine cone on the ground.
A lot of people might recognise these as puff balls. These really are an interesting little organism, particularly in they way they spread their spores around -- when the time is right, in a great big puff :-)
Even these tiny little yellow guys are important. How easy would it be to walk right past them without even realising they're there?
These cute little jelly-balls are fungus too.
This is one of the naughty ones ;-) Very popular with people looking for an... alternate view of the universe.
And these... these are the beauties of the fungi kingdom, I think. They are gorgeous, and the smell... absolutely beautiful.
If you have any interest in the fungi world I recommend you keep your ears open in Autumn and get yourself into one of Alison's workshops. It's a good day out, and you'll learn heaps. Plus a nice wander through the bush is relaxing.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Carrot Cake
I love carrot cake, but it's not something I make all that often. In fact, I think I can honestly put my hand on my heart and say it's been YEARS since I last made a carrot cake. It's been so long, in fact, that I can't remember where my preferred recipe is.
No matter, I have a new preference. When I was making this I had a moment of doubt, as it makes quite a wet batter, but it all came together quite nicely. Oh, and don't let the long list of ingredients put you off - they're all basic, and the method could hardly be easier!
Carrot Cake
(adapted from Tracy Rutherford's recipe in 9 August 2004 "Fresh Living" magazine)
2 medium or 3 small carrots, peeled and grated
1 cup self-raising flour
1/2 cup plain flour
1 tsp bicarb soda
1/2 tsp each of cinnamon and nutmeg
1/2 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup sunflower oil
1/2 cup golden syrup
3 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
3/4 cup roughly crushed walnuts
1/2 cup dessicated coconut
Preheat the oven to 160C fan-forced, and grease a 20cm-round springform pan. Line the base with baking paper.
Sift the flours, bicarb soda and spices together into a big bowl. In a jug, whisk the brown sugar, oil, golden syrup, eggs and vanilla together. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and mix with a wooden spoon until they just come together.
Add the carrots, walnuts and coconut and mix gently to combine. The mix really is quite moist, but don't worry.
Pour the batter into the tin. Bake for about an hour. Remove the cake from the oven and let it cool in the tin for about 5 minutes, then turn it onto a cake rack to cool completely.
Once it's completely cold mix half a block of Philly cream cheese with a cup of icing sugar then spread it all over the top of the cake. I dare you not to lick the bowl.
This cake turns out beautifully moist and incredibly more-ish. I ended up giving half of it to my neighbours purely so we wouldn't eat it all within half an hour. As you can see, we didn't even pretend to wait for the icing to set.
No matter, I have a new preference. When I was making this I had a moment of doubt, as it makes quite a wet batter, but it all came together quite nicely. Oh, and don't let the long list of ingredients put you off - they're all basic, and the method could hardly be easier!
Carrot Cake
(adapted from Tracy Rutherford's recipe in 9 August 2004 "Fresh Living" magazine)
2 medium or 3 small carrots, peeled and grated
1 cup self-raising flour
1/2 cup plain flour
1 tsp bicarb soda
1/2 tsp each of cinnamon and nutmeg
1/2 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup sunflower oil
1/2 cup golden syrup
3 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
3/4 cup roughly crushed walnuts
1/2 cup dessicated coconut
Preheat the oven to 160C fan-forced, and grease a 20cm-round springform pan. Line the base with baking paper.
Sift the flours, bicarb soda and spices together into a big bowl. In a jug, whisk the brown sugar, oil, golden syrup, eggs and vanilla together. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and mix with a wooden spoon until they just come together.
Add the carrots, walnuts and coconut and mix gently to combine. The mix really is quite moist, but don't worry.
Pour the batter into the tin. Bake for about an hour. Remove the cake from the oven and let it cool in the tin for about 5 minutes, then turn it onto a cake rack to cool completely.
Once it's completely cold mix half a block of Philly cream cheese with a cup of icing sugar then spread it all over the top of the cake. I dare you not to lick the bowl.
This cake turns out beautifully moist and incredibly more-ish. I ended up giving half of it to my neighbours purely so we wouldn't eat it all within half an hour. As you can see, we didn't even pretend to wait for the icing to set.
Thursday, April 07, 2011
Oohh Pretty
I wanted to share some of my favourite images from this year's Melbourne International Flower and Garden Show. So here they are: 
Friday, February 18, 2011
Slicegate – The Caramel Slice Showdown
I love caramel slice. Especially the caramel bit. I make it the way I like it, but I started wondering how this would stack up against the commercially available stuff. And there are some brilliant caramel slices out there. Unfortunately there are also some really, really awful ones.
So I made a slab of slice, then went out and bought specimens from three different places to pit against my creation. Nine willing taste testers were easily found within the office, and it was on.
I went to great lengths to try and make sure the test was completely blind. I brought the slices into the office in a plain plastic slice container so no-one could know which was which. I presented the samples one at a time. I was hoping to get people’s honest opinions. I think I achieved that. Or at least I hope I did.
I gave each person a scoresheet where they would rate each slice on a scale of 1-5, 1 being the worse and 5 the best, against 5 criteria: base, caramel, chocolate, visual appeal, and overall enjoyment.
Final scores were out of 225 for each slice: a score of out 5 for each criteria from 9 people
Here are the results.
4th place:
Slice B
Base: 21/45
Caramel: 20/45
Chocolate: 24/45
Visual Appeal: 30/45
Overall Enjoyment: 23/45For a total 118/225
3rd place:
Slice A
Base: 23/45
Caramel: 24/45
Chocolate: 26/45
Visual Appeal: 24/45
Overall Enjoyment: 23.5/45
For a total 120.5/225
2nd place:
And 1st place:
So I made a slab of slice, then went out and bought specimens from three different places to pit against my creation. Nine willing taste testers were easily found within the office, and it was on.
I went to great lengths to try and make sure the test was completely blind. I brought the slices into the office in a plain plastic slice container so no-one could know which was which. I presented the samples one at a time. I was hoping to get people’s honest opinions. I think I achieved that. Or at least I hope I did.
I gave each person a scoresheet where they would rate each slice on a scale of 1-5, 1 being the worse and 5 the best, against 5 criteria: base, caramel, chocolate, visual appeal, and overall enjoyment.
Final scores were out of 225 for each slice: a score of out 5 for each criteria from 9 people
Here are the results.
4th place:
Slice B
Base: 21/45
Caramel: 20/45
Chocolate: 24/45
Visual Appeal: 30/45
Overall Enjoyment: 23/45For a total 118/225
3rd place:
Slice A
Base: 23/45
Caramel: 24/45
Chocolate: 26/45
Visual Appeal: 24/45
Overall Enjoyment: 23.5/45
For a total 120.5/225
2nd place:
Slice D
Base: 23/45
Caramel: 31/45
Chocolate: 25/45
Visual Appeal: 27/45
Overall Enjoyment: 26/45
For a total 132/225
Base: 23/45
Caramel: 31/45
Chocolate: 25/45
Visual Appeal: 27/45
Overall Enjoyment: 26/45
For a total 132/225
And 1st place:
Slice C
Base: 33/45
Caramel: 33/45
Chocolate: 31/45
Visual Appeal: 38/45
Overall Enjoyment: 35.5/45
For a total 170.5/225
I will now reveal the origins of each slice.
Slice B came from Coles. At $4.49 for a pack of 6 slim fingers it was the second cheapest option. As you can see, though, it didn’t rank highly at all with the test group which, I think, means any saving in $$ isn’t worth it in the flavour stakes. Personally I found this slice to be quite plastic with a flavour that I didn’t like at all. In fact, I took one bite then turfed the rest of my piece into the bin.
Slice A came from Michel’s Patisserie. At $3.95 per piece (and they weren’t the biggest pieces: Slice D comes in slightly larger portions) it was the most expensive of those sampled. Comments from the testers include base is “too crumbly” and “a bit dry”, and the caramel “is more fudgy” and “a bit grainy”.
Slice D came from Brumby’s bakery. At $3.20 per piece it rated in the middle of the expense scale. One tester considered this “the best” caramel (and I have to admit, I love their caramel too). They also suggested more base and less caramel. As you can see, the ration of caramel to other layers is... well, the picture speaks for itself. Another tester suggested there was not enough chocolate. For me, if I’m buying caramel slice instead of making it, this is the one I choose and it’s mainly because of the quality of the caramel.
Slice C was the one I made. I can’t work out the cost-per-piece, but it comes down to not-bloody-much. The payoff is, though, the time spent preparing, baking, cooling, cooking, baking, cooling, melting, and cooling. I’m so very proud that my humble little offering ranked so highly. You can find the recipe for it here.
Finally, once the testing was over, I brought all slices back out for the rest of the office to enjoy morning tea. I’m happy to report that C was finished first. A narrowly beat D to be finished next, and I ended up throwing the last of B out.
Base: 33/45
Caramel: 33/45
Chocolate: 31/45
Visual Appeal: 38/45
Overall Enjoyment: 35.5/45
For a total 170.5/225
I will now reveal the origins of each slice.
Slice B came from Coles. At $4.49 for a pack of 6 slim fingers it was the second cheapest option. As you can see, though, it didn’t rank highly at all with the test group which, I think, means any saving in $$ isn’t worth it in the flavour stakes. Personally I found this slice to be quite plastic with a flavour that I didn’t like at all. In fact, I took one bite then turfed the rest of my piece into the bin.
Slice A came from Michel’s Patisserie. At $3.95 per piece (and they weren’t the biggest pieces: Slice D comes in slightly larger portions) it was the most expensive of those sampled. Comments from the testers include base is “too crumbly” and “a bit dry”, and the caramel “is more fudgy” and “a bit grainy”.
Slice D came from Brumby’s bakery. At $3.20 per piece it rated in the middle of the expense scale. One tester considered this “the best” caramel (and I have to admit, I love their caramel too). They also suggested more base and less caramel. As you can see, the ration of caramel to other layers is... well, the picture speaks for itself. Another tester suggested there was not enough chocolate. For me, if I’m buying caramel slice instead of making it, this is the one I choose and it’s mainly because of the quality of the caramel.
Slice C was the one I made. I can’t work out the cost-per-piece, but it comes down to not-bloody-much. The payoff is, though, the time spent preparing, baking, cooling, cooking, baking, cooling, melting, and cooling. I’m so very proud that my humble little offering ranked so highly. You can find the recipe for it here.
Finally, once the testing was over, I brought all slices back out for the rest of the office to enjoy morning tea. I’m happy to report that C was finished first. A narrowly beat D to be finished next, and I ended up throwing the last of B out.
I really enjoyed this, and I hope my testers did too. I’m already trying to think of ideas to do a similar thing in a month or so with something else I like to bake. Ideas? Suggestions? Taste-testing volunteers?
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