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Amateur Cocktail Hour(s)

I found a can of passionfruit pulp in the fridge tonight, and that can only mean one thing: amateur cocktail hour! Vodka, Cointreau, lemon juice and passionfruit pulp, shaken roughly over ice cubes and strained into a glass. Perfect. I didn’t put lemon juice in the first one, but M tasted it and swiftly identified its single failing: absence of lemon. So the second one was vastly superior.

I’m pretty sure the passionfruit pulp was left over from the Pavlova Incident over Christmas, so I cracked it open. I only use about a teaspoonful in my cocktails, so I’m not quite sure what to do with the rest. Perhaps some sort of delicious breakfast is in order? Passionfruit pancakes, perhaps with lemon curd? Maybe a passionfruit souffle? Actually, that sounds pretty freaking sweet. Hmm, maybe some passionfruit cupcakes for morning tea at work on Friday? So many choices!

Tonight the mood was upon me to bake cakes and muffins and similar tasty, fluffy items. But I hardly eat them. I wouldn’t like to say never, but it wouldn’t be too inaccurate. I appreciate cakes and whatnot, I just don’t want to eat them. Biscuits, brownies and other cakey treats tend to fall into the same category, and it’s a real shame, because I love cooking them. They’re simple and satisfying to make, them make the house smell good, and you can get away with all sorts of experimentation and ingredient substitutions. But they don’t do much for me when they’re done cooking. I tend to only make them when I need to take something (like to a work morning tea, or a lunch with family).

I restrained myself and didn’t bake anything. It was a near thing, though: I had to promise myself that I would bake the passionfruit cupcakes for Friday morning tea, tomorrow night. I’m really looking forward to it, actually. I think I’ll make some ratatouille as well, since I feel the psychological need for a hearty hot meal, but not really the physical need, if you catch my weighty drift.

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