A couple of posts ago I had a comment about the whole orange cake recipe that I posted the link to. I’d said that I was going to try it but I’d completely forgotten about it. This jogged my memory, so on Sunday I gave it a burl.
Basically, you put a whole orange into a food processor, blitz it, add other cakey ingredients for a minute or so and then bung it in the oven. Too easy.
Actually, it WAS too easy. My food processor just cut the orange up into biggish bits, then pushed them all to the sides, but once I added the other ingredients it all went as it should. It hurt a bit to add 3 eggs for one cake, but as it turned out I was glad I did.
Yesterday I got up and was getting ready for school. I thought I’d take a slice of the orange cake for morning tea. Normally I just take a container of leftovers for lunch. Of course, once I got to work I realised that I’d left my lunch in the fridge and I’d arrived at work with a single slice of orange cake to last me through the day. I’m used to taking one container to work and so I’d done the same thing without thinking. What an idiot.
However, fortified by the goodness of citrus and 3 eggs, that slice of cake lasted me the whole day. By the time I went home I was feeling slightly hungry, but in the rush to get to Southland to buy my baby an electric shaver (“Shaver? I barely know her!” he said… I think it’s a Family Guy joke) I was easily able to last till dinner. Which turned out to be a baguette from the free bread we pick up every Tuesday from the bread shop. So yesterday wasn’t a stellar day for dietary good health, but hey…. that cake tasted delicious. And was so easy to make.
The thought of it makes me feel better after I reflect that I am now old enough to have all 4 sons having to shave. What next? Surely not…. girlfriends….?
Two days ago I went into David2’s room because I was sure I heard something suspicious. I stood in a corner of his room and stayed still. Then I saw it.
One of the white silkie bantams raised herself up on her toes, threw back her head, flapped her wings…. and crowed. I’m talking the whole “cock a doodle doo”. You’ve never seen anything more testosterone filled in your life. (Well, maybe I’m overstating it slightly, but you know what I mean. That chook won’t be laying eggs anytime in the foreseeable future!) David2 thinks that both the white ones are crowing. I said that we’d have to go back to Lilydale on the weekend to drop them back to their breeder, but he doesn’t want to. At least, not yet. They’re so fluffy and white and they’re his babies…