3 posts tagged “cocktails and cake”
See you there... I'll be the one lurching around in some ridiculous shoes and a vintage frock, cockail-tipsy and sugar-frazzled from eating too much icing. If you play your cards right I might share some cake with you. But only if you behave.
Want to know what I've been up to over the last few weeks? It's been a whirlwind, but an abbreviated version of my activities includes:
The most wonderful clubnight in all of Yorkshire (and maybe even the world), DJ'ed by two of my favourite chaps and involving copious amounts of gin mixed with wine, the hotpants playsuit, daisy barrettes, and day-job meetings deliberately scheduled to coincide so my train fare and hotel were taken care of. Losing my voice after Amy and I shrieking the lyrics to Ballroom Blitz at each other at maximum volume, and finding a dozen tiny plastic monkeys stolen from a pub board game in my underwear the next morning. Peanut butter sandwiches at three am and realising how amazing my friends are. Dancing until my feet were sore and my stockings in tatters. Knowing that although I'll never live in Leeds again, I do adore those types of visits. Other news: last Saturday in Manchester, two of my best friends got engaged:
GHB and I convened in Salford to get dolled up for celebratory Canal Street drinks:
Early on Easter Monday morning GW (My big brother, only not really. But of all my current friends he's the one I've known for longest) collected me from Salford in his shiny red sports car, and drove me to Didsbury with the top down, blaring obscene glam rock for the entire journey. Including the part where the traffic lights stopped us right outside the church my Mum used to drag me to in days gone by, and I slunk as low as possible in my seat and tried to hide my bottle of revoltingly cheap white wine and surreptitiously turn down the song about spanking whilst my chauffeur cackled and sped us away as soon as the lights turned green. Once we arrived in East Didsbury almost the entire old gang assembled and we picnicked like nobody's business until it got cold and dark.
It's taken me a while to recover from my jaunt to the North, not least because this past weekend I had a visit from Amy. This included a wonderfully quaint tea party and cake feast at Jess' 'Primrose Palace', cackling in the Fox until last orders with Z and quoting Guy Pearce in Factory Girl until I had to go to bed because my stomach hurt from laughing too hard. Then there was the Prodigy at Brixton Academy, dancing until 2 and nattering for the length of 2 night bus journeys across South London about how much we want to fuck Keith Flint.
After an action-packed March and April, this week me and Z will be concentrating on fussing over each to make sure we’re both shipshape and back to top form in time for our jaunt to the seaside this weekend. I can’t wait!
I’ve been a bit run-down this past couple of days (I think it was the epic quest to Devon and back for work late last week which exhausted me, although I did get to stay in this lovely boutique hotel close to Plymouth, with lots of delicious wine and food, so can’t complain). But Z and I have both been a bit fuzzy around the edges since my return, so on Saturday I attempted to cheer us up by making a massive apple crumble, with apples picked from the tree in our back garden.
Now, I’m no domestic goddess. I can’t cook anything savoury. Blame my sweet tooth for that. If it hasn’t got a diabetes-inducing amount of sugar in it, then I don’t care enough to make it. And simplicity is ever the watchword. Anything with more than five ingredients is far too complicated for me. But I do make a cracking apple crumble. And all it required was apples, flour, sugar, cinnamon and butter. Which means as well as being fucking delicious, it also only cost me a few pence. Impressive work for these credit-crunch-conscious times, n’est-ce-pas?
So, full marks for my retro and queen-like reign over the kitchen.
But, points deducted for shuffling to the corner shop in my slippers and Minnie Mouse pyjamas to purchase tinned custard to go with it. Still, can’t be classy all the time, can I?
In other news, this week I have resurrected my whopper of a crush on Zombina, of Zombina and the Skeletones fame. But you can read all about that in my review of them over at BitchBuzz.
EDIT: Fame at last! The queen of all apple crumbles has been featured over at Sian Meades' mouthwatering blog, Cocktails and Cake. Move over Nigella, there's a new girl in town...
