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Mar. 19th, 2006 01:05 pmI am making yoghurt. Yes! Even as we speak.
Mum bought a yoghurt maker about a week ago, which as far as I can tell is basically a hot plate with its own customised tupperware. Still, she got it cheap -- it was on sale at Tuesday Morning, a local remaindered-item shop that specialises in housewares. So I scalded the milk and cooled it and added the yoghurt (this seems a bit silly to me, since we bought a larger vat of yoghurt for this purpose than the eventual finished product will be) and poured it all in the little cups, and now it's hotplating away.
Not that I mind having assloads of yoghurt. I'm a big fan of yoghurt cheese, which is made by suspending cheesecloth over a cup, filling the cheesecloth with yoghurt, covering it, and leaving it alone in the fridge for a few days while the whey strains out. It's a bit like tart cream cheese, and makes a lovely cracker spread when you stir in some roasted garlic and chopped chives.
Meals round here have not been appetising lately. They've been edible and haven't tasted bad, exactly, but I'm always left craving something else. I miss being able to cook what I want when I want, since the kitchen is now Mum's Domain, and also I oddly miss the smell of spray paint while cooking, since I used to use half my old kitchen as a mask workshop. Now the mask workshop is in the bathroom and I'm not allowed to spraypaint in the house, so I just bought a Cova Color Leather Acrylics set. (Those of you who use this, tips and tricks would be greatly appreciated).
I also miss not being able to simply buy what food I want, whether it's from a grocery store or the Chinese place down on the corner. If the former, everything I purchase is scrutinised by the 'rents and then stolen by the sibs; if I want to eat out, which I enjoy doing alone, it's generally a family affair. And now I can't go to dinner with them anyway, because I work. But since I don't have a car during the day, I can't get to any restaurants except the Chinese place, or the net cafe next door to it, whose sandwiches look suspicious.
Tomorrow I shall have the house blissfully to myself for the first time in five days. I am plotting a raid on the Chinese place. THE PEOPLE WANT FRIED DUMPLINGS, and by "the people" I mean "my Id".
Mum bought a yoghurt maker about a week ago, which as far as I can tell is basically a hot plate with its own customised tupperware. Still, she got it cheap -- it was on sale at Tuesday Morning, a local remaindered-item shop that specialises in housewares. So I scalded the milk and cooled it and added the yoghurt (this seems a bit silly to me, since we bought a larger vat of yoghurt for this purpose than the eventual finished product will be) and poured it all in the little cups, and now it's hotplating away.
Not that I mind having assloads of yoghurt. I'm a big fan of yoghurt cheese, which is made by suspending cheesecloth over a cup, filling the cheesecloth with yoghurt, covering it, and leaving it alone in the fridge for a few days while the whey strains out. It's a bit like tart cream cheese, and makes a lovely cracker spread when you stir in some roasted garlic and chopped chives.
Meals round here have not been appetising lately. They've been edible and haven't tasted bad, exactly, but I'm always left craving something else. I miss being able to cook what I want when I want, since the kitchen is now Mum's Domain, and also I oddly miss the smell of spray paint while cooking, since I used to use half my old kitchen as a mask workshop. Now the mask workshop is in the bathroom and I'm not allowed to spraypaint in the house, so I just bought a Cova Color Leather Acrylics set. (Those of you who use this, tips and tricks would be greatly appreciated).
I also miss not being able to simply buy what food I want, whether it's from a grocery store or the Chinese place down on the corner. If the former, everything I purchase is scrutinised by the 'rents and then stolen by the sibs; if I want to eat out, which I enjoy doing alone, it's generally a family affair. And now I can't go to dinner with them anyway, because I work. But since I don't have a car during the day, I can't get to any restaurants except the Chinese place, or the net cafe next door to it, whose sandwiches look suspicious.
Tomorrow I shall have the house blissfully to myself for the first time in five days. I am plotting a raid on the Chinese place. THE PEOPLE WANT FRIED DUMPLINGS, and by "the people" I mean "my Id".
