For like two weeks I have dreamed about going to Barmuda in Newtown and getting the warm rice pudding. Sadly, this has not eventuated. Also, I feel bad asking my grandma to make some for me. I am 21, not 5 (this makes me sad).
But it is ok, because I have decided to make it myself. Not to sound cocky, but it seems kind of easy as piss. Basically it is just cooking rice in milk. If I fuck it up, y'all have permission to mock me foreverz. I will make a vanilla one, with grilled mango on top (we found three mangoes under our mango tree yesterday, and not one had been ravaged by a shitty bird. This is exciting and different. However, they are very ripe so I have to use them today).
I will also bake a cake for my mum's birthday (it was yesterday, but I was too hungover to do anything much) and do her ironing. Because I want her to be happy. When she is happy, she is nicer to me.
I sound like Susie Homemaker. Not to mention desperate to have a dinner party. How good would I be as a housewife, seriously? Well dressed, good cook...and very good at delegating cleaning to others.
P.S. My life must seem like a total joke. I do go to work, and I am busily and quietly working on my Honours thesis. I just don't talk about that in my blog because that is boring. Don't judge my vapid blog entries.
EDIT: Haha. I fucked it up. Like it's not inedible, but it's not as gooey and runny as I suspect it should be. Mind you, I followed Jamie Oliver's instructions to the LETTER. It didn't help that I was making lunch at the same time and cooked it that teeny tiny bit too much. Hopefully the grilled caramelised mangoes will amp it up.
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