Sometimes it does what it says on the box…othertimes not so much.
On Saturday I was completely seduced by the vision of two Nonnas, the very definition of a life lived broadly, as they sat, side-by-side, taking up every inch of space the esky that stored the stall’s produce. They were at the back of a fresh-made pasta stall at the Farmers’ Market, and I reckoned that I was likely on to a good thing: Nonnas. Pasta. Thumbs up. In retrospect the grim, downward trajectory of their mouths should have been the thing I paid more attention to.
I’d missed the lemon myrtle pasta – bush tucker meets tagliatelle (just another evolution in the turn of Chinese noodles meeting wheat flour and local produce in Italy). But the gnocchi: I pivoted, redirecting the baked potato dinner plans into the light, fluffy potato-y goodness of gnocchi.
Not a good decision.
Worst. Gnocchi. Ever. Not for us the little potato clouds. These were sinkers. Hard, actually jaw-tiring, sinkers. I think the pan was big enough – plenty of room to boil and dance their way to the surface. It took an age. I added one minute. Another. Another. First clue that things were going pear-shaped. As the minutes ticked by, they didn’t disintegrate which should, perhaps, have been the second clue…
(On a side note, the gnocchi on Sunday evening at 1-800-Lasagna floated me to the heavens and restored my faith in that carby combo).
In contrast, the Run Amok Sparkle Syrup did EXACTLY what it said on the bottle. It is Maple Syrup. And it s-p-a-r-k-l-e-s.
A three-year old, two six-year olds, and a when-it-comes-to-sparkles-still-just-a-six-year-old all gave it the thumbs up.
And, it turns out, Run Amok have been supporting grown-up-maple-syrup-spakly goodness all North American summer, with a maple syrup sparkle tonic water. I suspect that peak joy would be achieved at the halfway point of the second gin-based bevy on a balmy backyard arvo.
Stardust Becoming 