The point of me being somewhere without Sweeney at nighttime was because Neil and Becc are heading to Perth. Good for them, but a shame for a bunch of enthusiastic beer-swillers. Such nice people.
Sweeney stayed over at Bela's. Wonder of wonders, the two of them went straight to sleep at 7.30pm, and apart from a bit of panic at the unfamiliar in the wee hours, there was no disturbance until get-up time this morning. I, meanwhile, got in at 2am, drank a pint or so of water and woke up with the cat planted firmly on my bladder. I slept in until, oh, maybe half an hour past usual get-up time, made breakfast for myself and ate it in bed without having to read any stories out loud to any small visitors. Then I remembered I'd left the car in Newtown and trudged over there in the icy wind.
I was talking to a woman recently - an adult - who reminded me of how much I love Claudia Roden's The Book of Jewish Food. I made her egg and flour dumplings tonight to go into our chicken soup. They were weird, but niiiice, like flattened, squishy egg noodles. I especially like how she tells you if she doesn't like something, even though she's included the recipe. She doesn't like beetroot, but the beetroot and sour cream salad, well, when pushed, she "quite likes it". And the egg and flour dumplings are "pleasant" in chicken soup. But not kosher.
I don't make much from her book, to be honest. I get too caught up in reading her stories of the traditions driving the food itself, reminiscinces of her own childhood and lots of people she's interviewed. The rooting of people in their traditions is very important to her.
Anyway, Sweeney was unimpressed and would only drink the soup around the dumplings and veges. He ended up having a vegemite sandwich, two mandarins, a handful of grapes and about half a kilo of cheese for his dinner.
He just doesn't get it ...