Had a gastronomical birthday. Seriously, it feels like all we did since Friday is eat and eat and eat.

Started off Thursday evening after picking up the munchies for work; I got myself a pecan-nut-pie. I love pecan-nut-pie. Still think the Pick ‘n Pay in Plumstead makes the best ones. Henk doesn’t eat it. So I had me a little pre-celebration slice (quarter) of pie).

Friday teatime I dished out the munchies. We’ve eaten so much cake the past month (Amelia’s birthday I brought cake to work. Working on the budget Marianne brought us cake. Yusuf retired and we had cake – all chocolate nê). So to break the habit I got us some mini chicken pies, and savoury tarts, mini milk tarts and hertzoggies and mini spinach-feta quiche.

Friday evening Henk to me to a Paiter’s Grill for my birthday. I didn’t want anything big this year, will save that for the big three-oh. Dalene came to baby-sit Amelia. She complained that there was nothing to do baby wise. Before we left I put Amelia down to sleep. She didn’t stir the whole time we were gone.
The food was delish: my filet tender and perfect colour; baked cheesecake like velvet.

Saturday morning I dropped Amelia off with Dalene again while I ran some errands. Apparently she was a handful, lol. My last few stops I tagged Amelia along. At 11 kg’s she gets a bit heavy to carry – no, she isn’t walking yet. That’s another story. And she’s a babe magnet. Everywhere I go people stop us and talk to her. Never mind the backs of crockery I’m also carrying.

Saturday evening Henk had some friends over for a braai. I don’t like salad. I eat it, but I’m not fond of making it if I don’t have to. So I shoved some veggies in the oven and baked them with some olive oil. The woman can’t stop raving about how no one she knows ever makes veggies for a braai, and it’s a stunning idea. I’m still not fond of salad. Again we ate like pigs. Great pun since we had pork neck.

Then yesterday the same bunch of us, kiddies in tow, bundled into their Mercedes Van and had lunch at Muisbosskerm at Lambertsbaai. (Almost, but not quite like a buffet) I’m still stuffed from all that food. I tried everything. From the steamed mussels, snoek, baked fish, paella, affal pot, wildspot and waterblommetjie bredie, bakbrood and koeksisters. Amelia even nibbled on a crayfish leg.

Got home around 5pm. I just wanted to sleep, but Amelia had other plans. She went to bed around 7pm. We followed soon after.

All in all a great time. I’m on call for the next few weeks, so can’t gallivant around too much.

Last post, I admitted to being a blog voyeur. Let me show you why.

I was reading The Wednesday Chef’s blog, as I do every once in a while, and came across an older post about her trip to Paris. I scrolled down simply because I was not in the mood to read but to skim. Then I spied the gorgeous morsels in this:

Which led me to the website of this little slice of patisserie heaven. Oh my. Deep breaths, deep breaths. How I miss Europe. It doesn’t have to be Paris. Or London. Or Geneva/Zurich. I just miss the food, that wonderful freshness, the subtle tastes….

Sometime earlier this year, the hubs casually mentioned planning a trip back to the UK next year as our big holiday. Noone had better tell me he was kidding. I would not be amused. At all. So, I’ve been deluding prepping myself by searching for cute lil B&Bs to possibly stay in during our holiday. I do so hope he’s willing to include a trip back to Suisse for me while we’re over there. There would be no torture so great as to be so near yet so far because I would so love to manger ici encore. Ms M, who came to visit recently, and I were reminiscing about the trattoria’s petit, chubby chef’s pasta and droolworthy pizzas.

Sigh, memories just don’t keep my tummy happy though. It HAS TO BE the real thing. *Hint*