It’s been 2.5 weeks since my surgery and I’ve been recuperating at home, building up my strength with lovingly cooked food and walking laps around the perimeter of my parents house like a nutter. Nutty or not, the exercise and the food have both helped in my recovery and I’m getting stronger every day.
Yesterday, we decided it was time I ventured a little further. My parents love this restaurant in West End – a casual little Vietnamese joint called Trang – and so off we went for pho! YUMMERZ.
With the situation in Japan worsening day by day, we as a global community need to rally together and help in any way that we can. I often get asked where to buy matcha. Well, you can usually get a tin down in your local Asian grocery store, but right now, Vitalife Matcha are donating 25% of all profits made to help Japan (and their products are also currently discounted) so if there’s one place to buy matcha right now, it’s HERE.
Thanks for your support – every little bit helps! x
I want to let you in on a little fact. It’ll either make you love this banana cake recipe, or well, make you not love it but here it is: this recipe contains condensed milk. And because I could more than happily sustain life by injecting condensed milk directly into my blood stream, this fact means that I Absolutely Love This Recipe and also because I do believe sharing is caring, here I am sharing it with you.
My mum’s banana cake recipe.
There is a magical regenerative power to being sick at home. Especially for those of us who live abroad, when we’re down and out and all rugged up feeling acutely sorry for our lonesome selves, all we want is for our mums to be there, to tsk away at how we’ve not kept warm enough, but at the same time, caressing our feverish foreheads and lovingly nursing us back to health. And somehow, we get better so much quicker.
I’ve been so lucky as to have had all this happen while I’m in Brisbane. Because there is no where in the world I’d rather be right now.
Appropriate, isn’t it? I’d been home in Brisbane for about 36 hours and I’d already had two serves of my dad’s own caught crabs. First, a simple boiled sand crab and then on Sunday night, my dad’s chilli crabs. I said I could die happy, but I’ve now learnt to be careful what I say.
Because less than 24 hours later, I was hurtled away in a screeching ambulance.