A Continuation of The Aforementioned Exciting Weekend

Starting a blog is a little strange because all of a sudden things that would ordinarily seem boring and unremarkable suddenly become questioned. Do you think the people even want to know this? I ask myself often, contemplating life and people who say "the small things are the big things".  The word "blog-worthy" has crept into my vocabulary and the question "will this make the blog?" is commonly asked in this house-hold. I want to keep these posts as interesting as possible so let me know what you think. All comments are welcome. So far my favourite person is Katie Worthington-Smith because not only are her comments kind but intelligent and funny. She sets a high comment-standard, but don't be put off! Feel free to criticise, insult (only if you can handle a rebuttal) or just let me know how you're doing or what you want me to write about.

Last week I mentioned that my exciting weekend lasted longer than a Tedx talk and I think I've kept you on tenter hooks for far too long. The next day, Greg, Becca and I had a softball game scheduled. (Softball is like baseball with the volume turned down. It's pitched (bowled) underhand instead of overhand and the ball is bigger and as the title suggests - softer. Played by girls. Damn the patriarchy.) This match however was rained out, not uncommon in Washington. So instead we headed to the Starbucks Roastery. What is a roastery? Read on to find out!

The Starbucks Roastery is like a massive Starbucks. Coffee lovers reading this are currently holding there heads in their hands in disgust at this vague and amateur description. Only serious coffees are sold here, even the ones with syrups aren't very sweet but they are interesting. The one I had had a subtle orange flavour and maybe I didn't appreciate it for what it was but I'll tell you this, it was tasty.
Here are some pics!

 This barista was sporting a Starbucks plug. I'm impressed with his dedication to the brand although that is definitely not a length I would stretch to. 

 Becca and I. Doesn't give you any insight to the place we went to but anyway. Just proving that we're buddies. Also Becca was sick. Still photogenic, but sick. 

 You have to take a pic of the top of your coffee. It's mandatory. Someone slaved over that foam art.

(Special appearance made by the shadow of my phone.)

This guy. 

Look at that moustache. Some moustaches get so impressive-looking that they stop being moustaches and cross over into snor territory. (Afrikaans for moustache. The moustaches of the Afrikaans are almost exclusively thick and impressive-looking.) 

After our coffees we grabbed pizza from the pizza place in the Roastery "Serious Pie". I did think the name was slightly misleading considering that they are a pizza place and not a pie place but it was explained to me that pizzas are sometimes referred to as pies here (???????) which explains the name. I would have snapped a pic of my pizza but I gulped it down before I even had the chance to think of pictures. It was very mushroomy. This is not a criticism. It was absolutely delicious. 

Thus ends our adventurous weekend. The next weekend held a completely different adventure.

The Rusk Diaries

Credits to Greg Nelson for the name. This is a new segment that I am introducing to the blog. It all started when Laurie approached me with the idea to endeavour to create the perfect rusk. We did not have much to work with. Just an old recipe written out by my mum which was rather short hand (here I roll my eyes to the heavens because mum, we needed all the help we could get.) and a side note labeled "Rob's variation!" which Laurie and I shrewdly decided to ignore. Sorry dad. 

We slaved away for an entire afternoon on our first batch. Rusk-makers among you will know that this is no easy feat. The rusks need to be baked twice. The first time is to cook them through, they are then cut up and dried out which is done by putting them in the oven on a lower heat than the initial baking and leave the rusks in there for hours. Seriously, we left ours in all night. 

Though the kitchen was filled with the steamy aroma of buttermilk and fresh bread, to say these rusks were disappointing would be a wild understatement. The flavour didn't come through and my first thought was that they were like just eating plain flour with a bit of sugar. Even after dunking them in my tea (this is compulsory in rusk consumption) they were still stodgy und unpleasant. But honestly I like to think this was all part of the plan. Start bad so the final result seems that much more impressive. Bold strategy but it worked in my school career. 

Laurie and Jennifer, more commonly referred to as The Rusk Machine, will press on. We shall drink only the blood of our enemies in our quest to perfect our rusks. 

This was taken before the rusks were dried out. At this point The Rusk Machine was very confident considering that they smelled so good and looked like rusks, which I though was quite important. 

In our next rusk-making session, we have decided to to use white flour instead of the suggested wheat flour and bake them in baking tins rather than loaf tins as I feel like this will cause them to dry quicker. Also I'm thinking of consulting more sources than one hurriedly-scrawled recipe. I'll keep you updated! Any tips will be appreciated. 

Thank you all for your nudges and encouragements for me to write these posts. 

See you soon over the internet and see you later in person. 

Until next time, 

Jen x