Tuesday, March 2, 2010


Tuesdays are now my day to myself - well during school hours anyway.  Oh what to do with this sudden abundance of time on my own?  This morning I went to Coorparoo and did a bit of op shopping and slowly sipped a coffee while reading a County Style magazine.

Back home I have bible study to prepare, it is so very lovely to sit and read the bible in silence without fear of little interruptions.
Of course, being in the kitchen on my own without time pressures is another pleasure of Tuesday.  Today it was about lunch - for today and for Matt and I to have at college/work tomorrow.

Now this yummy looking frittata is actually a weight watchers recipe, slightly adapted to suit the ingredients on hand.  Made largely from egg whites, with a few of the yokes added in, vintage cheddar cheese, preserved artichoke hearts and some char-grilled capsicum.  Flavored with seasoning, fresh oregano and chilli flakes.  Enjoyed slowly (did I mention no interruptions, oh yes, I did) with some homemade sourdough.  It seems almost criminal that the whole lunch was only 4 WW points (and that was eating a quarter of the frittata, not a measly little slither).

Now, all those little egg yolks, as laden with golden saturated fat as they are, needed to be used, I could not bear to bin them.
So we come to what I do believe is my favorite thing ever - lemon curd.  Oh the lovely silkiness, the tartness, sweetness, butteriness, I could wax lyrical (oh I already am, aren't I?).

(yes, I did point this out on the niffty little recipe building tool on the WW website, 1.5 points per heaped table spoon. So one can only have a little bit, but as the french say, the pleasure is in the first mouthful).


  1. Coffee. Op shopping. Country Style. . . some of my favourite things!

  2. Uninterrupted moments ... I look forward to more of those one day. The closest I come to them is when I use the toilet at work. The work toilet is in the bathroom/cat ward and I regularly find myself reading the articles in the pages of old newspaper that line the bottom of the cages. Uninterrupted ... but only until a work colleague starts banging on the door, "Fiona, are you in there?"


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