Honeycomb

The most nurturing, light, lip tingling sweetie pie any substance could be; honeycomb and pure fresh honey

With a flesh aligned in perfection, each chewy crystal holding a little flask of honey

The sweet deliciousness penetrates your lips and rolls down your tongue, your throats’ worries fly away and your mouth is sent to bliss

The very presence is a luxury

BIG, FAT AND SQUIDGY

Crunchy dark chocolate cookies? nnaaa it's not intense enough
Silky chocolate ice cream? its too silky.. not enough bite
Chocolate fudge? again.. need something for my teeth to grip onto
How about... dark chocolate sorbet? the kind from trampoline the ice cream shop.. 'after dark'? mmmm nope its not thick enough.
How about we move away from the chocolate? and onto.. peanut butter? PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES!? .... nope, that's not it.


Check this babe out, he's one fiery masculine piece of cake; the adventurous, dangerous, stunningly jaw-dropping luring man you'll ever come across
He's a piece of  fat squidgy  chocolate brownie, one you'll never forget, one that's perfect when smothered with a little bit of not-too-sweet-vanilla ice cream. oh yeah, once you go black, you never go back. (adapted from Donna Hay (I think) )


- 200g good quality dark chocolate, chopped (bittersweet lint cooking is good)
- 250g butter, chopped
- 1 1/2 cup brown sugar
- 4 free range eggs (the free range makes a difference)
- 1/3 cup cocoa powder, sifted
-1 1/4 cups plain organic flour, sifted (the organic is good for you :P)
1/2 tsp baking powder
170g white chocolate chips
optional: unsalted chopped macadamias
not-too-sweet vanilla ice cream to serve


Preheat your oven to 160ºC. Lightly grease a 22cm-square cake tin lined with non-stick baking paper.
Put chocolate and butter in a small saucepan over low heat and stir until melted and smooth. Place into a bath of cool water in sink to cool down slightly, but not to harden it up.
Place sugar and eggs in a bowl and whisk lightly to combine
Add the chocolate mixture into the egg/sugar mixture and stir to combine.
Add sifted cocoa, flour and baking powder and stir to combine.
Fold through the extra chocolate and optional nuts.
Pour into prepared tin and cook for 45-50 minutes or until tested with skewer (rub pointer finger along it, if mixture on skewer is moist and forms a ball when rubbing thumb and finger together, it is ready. unless of course you don't like your brownies fudgy, then cook for an extra 10 or so minutes.
Serve with ice cream or whatever you wish. its good by itself too :)

Next time you can get yourself home

My mother and I never got along.
I was that classic rebellious teenager who gave a shit about nothing but themselves, in her eyes. In mine, she was a nagging, inconsiderate, manipulative woman who put most of her energy towards her appearance and accessories instead of getting to know her seventeen year old daughter who had been counting down the days until she could move out since she was twelve.
"Why are your knees so red?" She asked me
"I don't know, putting on my shoes or something" In monotone I replied
"Were you on your knees? Why were you on your knees?"
"Why do you need to point out every detail like that?" Yes, my voice had raised
"Don't start abusing me, I couldn't help but noticing them that's all."
I wave to Jade as we drive out of the street, onto the reckless road and out to the roller-coastering bustle.
"How was school today?"
"Yeah it was alright, it was good"
"What subjects did you have?"
"I had.. why does it matter?!"
"I'm just trying to start conversation!" We started to speak over each other.
"Why not talk don't start about abusing m- any- me -thing meaningful? I came and picke- why not -d you talk abo- up, -ut how I am? Or something more worth while?
Well what am I supposed to talk about?"
It was a lost cause, if it hadn't already come through to my mother what I wanted from her, I didn't see it coming through any time soon.
So on the argument travelled, down the winding streets, through the buzzing lights and guzzling engines, into the car park of the local supermarket, where it continued in the dimming car, the fury raged from my mothers screeching voice, I burst into tears onto a side topic; my sister.
How had nothing I said made it into her head, her heart, her conscious?
How was it that after I told her, that Mudi needed the support and happiness from her parents now more than ever, and that all she(mum) and dad had done was think about themselves and the affect it was having on them instead of Mudi herself, she came out with a "Next time you can get yourself home".