This mad me LOL. But not because I’m a hipster, tight pants wearer, ironic LOL-er. More because I couldn’t help but wonder whether the dessert “Emotional Problems By Apple”, if it existed, would be made up using this little guy.
I recommend not trying to make the “Flesh Eating Virus By Fudge” though, just cause I think it would be gross, and probably very messy.
From illustrator Gemma Correll via kottke.org
Cor blimey, have you seen the sun recently? It exists! I mean as unexcitable as I am about that guy in the sky (cue moan about transparent/translucent skin and burning, blah blah #irishskinproblems) I’m more excited about what that means for my diet/lifestyle. Snoozing, drinking beers by the canal (think more of picnic blankets than delinquencies and dropping bodies into the water) and eating ice cream.
I have no idea what flavour this ice cream is. Realistically it probably doesn’t even taste that good. BUT IT SURE AS HELL LOOKS GOOD. Happy sunshine bottled into a tasty treat for you to eat look at. You love it, don’t deny it.
From this little lady’s tumblr.
Last weekend I was a guest at what I can only describe as one of the most delightful parties I’ve ever attended. “A Fabulous Ladies Party” was how it was described, and it truely lived it up to its name. The champagne flowed, and many compliments were exchanged throughout the beautifully attired ladies. My oh my though, the FOOD. The day comprised of brunch, followed by afternoon tea, followed by evening snacks, and then finally a dessert selection to end all dessert selections.
But, I digress, the point is, I shall tell you all about this magical day once I’ve managed to upload the obscene amount of photos I took in good time. For now, I’ll leave you with an adorable dessert idea, in keeping with the tea party theme of the day, and almost as sweet looking as those we all munched delicately nibbled on (we are ladies after all).
Tea Party Cookies
From the ever inspiring Emily Schuman
Don’t these look like little sugar clouds?
I wish we would have had this kind of game at sports day instead of the egg race. Eggs shm-eggs, that was far too easy. Cue trumpets and the booming introduction to the world’s best keep-it-on-your-spoon race winner. Not like this loser, dropping his shizzle cubes everywhere.
From the unusual and creative friendlies at http://thingsorganizedneatly.tumblr.com
Sometimes when I’m particularly sugar-crazed I’ll play with my food. How often do you get the opportunity to blow bubbles into your milkshake or draw the mona lisa with your spaghetti at 23? You must seize the metaphorical donut!
I commend you, surprised coffee man. You make me laugh (like this, to fully commit to this brilliant silly moment).
From Leonie and Broadsheet
If you were to imagine a very snooty British lady exclaiming this everytime you read it you’ll see why I like this photo so much.
It’s also a picture of a word. A word that is a food.
It works on many levels you see. SO MANY LEVELS.
By the way this is actually a real thing for sale here (another level).
Have you ever wondered what the things YOU’RE NOT MEANT TO MICROWAVE look like once you… have?
Cue this tumblr. Complete with the suitable before and after shots.
I honestly didn’t know which of these to pick for my wallpaper this week. That was until I saw the pretty, but gross (quite key here I believe), peach rings.
Before
After their 30 seconds of microwave fame
I’m not sure if this is meant to be a stick-it-to-the-man-whaddaya-mean-i-can’t-microwave-your-face kind of website, but I dig it.
The bizarre and intriguing from http://microwhat.tumblr.com/
I agree completely with swiss-miss. Every day SHOULD start with Teddy Bear french toast.
Screw you Mickey Mouse pancakes.
From the delightful http://www.minieco.co.uk/
London happened (our trip that is), and it was amazeballs. We ate many times, at many places, drank many drinks, and had much of the fun. A big shout out to my lovely londoners for a wonderful weekend!
One of the places we ate at, that I had mentioned before, was the old school, the glamourous (for realz, I’m talking ball gown and tuxedo adorned clientele here), The Wolseley.
The reason why we went here for dinner on the Friday night was two-fold:
1. They serve dinner until midnight very very late (their last reservations are at 11pm, and we didn’t end up leaving until at least 1.30am).
2. AA Gill wrote a book about it. Ok ok, so it was about their breakfasts BUT, I mean what kind of a restaurant is SO GOOD at breakfast and SO BAD at dinner?
Our flight was delayed. So the beginning of the evening looked a lot less like this
Secretly I am an older woman with a penchant for horn-rimmed glasses wearing gay men.
and looked a bit more like this.
A lady with spoons for hair – an airport ad that was incredibly fascinating and amusing at the time (cue following photo for explanation)
Making friends with zee germans
But I digress.
After a short cab ride through the very fancy part of town we arrived (booming manly voice and trumpets).
This is where the bad iphone photos come into play, apologies in advance to your eyes for grrrainy-ness but The Wolseley does not allow photography (even iphones sans flash apparently, but NO ONE can take away my right to take endless photos of my food! Cringe.)
Anyway, straight to the meat.
He ordered the hamburger, rare, with french fries
We weren’t aiming to be the chicest here, there was too much competition already to begin with – remember ball gowns and tuxedos?
I ordered two starters.
Avocado vinaigrette 
Steak tartare, small, with egg yolk
They came almost immediately, which suited well, because after a 2 hours delay paired with a 50 minute flight, with plenty of wine and beer drinking in between, you often have a hankering for a bit of grub.
Although these dishes were anything but grub. Tsk tsk Aoife.
A hamburger cooked rare you say? Well when it’s seasoned well, and is wonderful quality meat, it’s worth it, even if your table neighbours gawk in horror. The soft texture just lets it melt in your mouth.
Now when I move on and describe my two dishes (particularly their texture) I want to make it clear I am not an old lady who has no teeth and enjoys the chance to sample soft food (despite my earlier confession above).
My avocado vinaigrette was delicious, the avocados were ripe and soft (see what I mean) and the vinaigrette was an emulsion that although it had a creamy texture had the great tangy elements of lemon and balsamic vinegar that complemented the simple avocado flavours.
My steak tartare was (cue pretension) the best I’ve had outside of Paris. Egg yolk is important (I don’t understand why they offer it without it) because it binds it all together to allow for it to sit pleasantly on top of the crispy piece of baguette or sourdough. The crunch of the accompanying toast paired with velvety, meaty, wholesome flavours are unparalleled to any other french dish (I think).
Next up came our cocktails.
An old fashioned (left) and A whisky sour (right)
I fell in love with my whiskey sour. Just the right amount of punch, zest, sweet and tang. The old fashioned wasn’t my thang, it had too much of a whoop of whiskey in it for my taste. But I guess that worked out well since it wasn’t my drink.
Then our joint dessert.
Chocolate éclair
The chocolate eclair was a lovely light finish to the meal. The pastry was a little stale (we suspect it might have been ordered in rather than made in house), but the chocolate crème pâtissière was delicious.
Well done Wolseley. No grub here, just wonderful classic french food, nice, snoot-less service, and ZINGY cocktails. Your reputation really does precede you.
The Wolseley, 160 Piccadilly, London W1J 9EB
Image 2 via
It’s basically a sandwich, but it’s also art. It’s creative, colourful, and FOOD.
Say hello to my little friend, Monsieur Picasso.
A brilliantly entitled post: “Sandwich Artist” from http://lowcommitmentprojects.com
Talk foodie to me 
