Saffy and Cakes

Last night Paul and I joined the young ones for drinks and burgers at The Hold in Manly.  It was absolutely pouring with rain as we stood at the bus-stop in our old fogey waterproof anoraks and we were a bit bedraggled by the time we arrived at the venue.  The bar was done out like an old ship’s hold and the decor was very effective without being too kitsch.  It was cosy sitting there and watching the storm outside.  Before long the noise and general hubbub reached such a level I could no longer follow the conversation (mainly about Trump) so I just sat quietly and enjoyed my glass of wine and fries.

Earlier in the evening Paul had totally befuddled the waitress by asking for chips with his fries.  Sarah had patiently sorted the out the confusion and it was at that point she reminded me of Saffy, the long suffering, straight-laced daughter from Absolutely Fabulous.  There comes a point in a parent/child relationship where there is a reversal of roles.  Living closely with grown up children for a couple of months is not easy and Paul and I are very conscious that we probably drive Sarah to distraction; she certainly has the knack of making me feel like a naughty child sometimes.


Mum, have you been ironing again?  (young people in Oz don’t iron)
What is this cheese doing in my vegan fridge? (she didn’t find the pork sausages)
Don’t give Buddy any cake, he’s getting fat. (he doesn’t like vegan dog food)
Where did you go today? (we spend too much time at home)
You really don’t have to stash those packets of ginger in your handbag (free from Sushi Train and great for adding to my curries)

This morning I made some vegan rock buns.  I substituted egg with a mixture of cider vinegar and baking powder (the same mix you use for chemical volcanoes).  They turned out well, maybe a little too much bicarbonate.  I accidentally doubled the amount of vinegar but you can’t taste it in the finished bun.