Right, so I know that Wednesdays are usually for reposting Clifton Courier rants, but today I’ve decided to do something a little different.

And by that I mean, “last week the glob of sweet potato mash that is my brain was unable to conjure a column so I had to re-jig a recipe blog post just to send something to print”.

And because a repost of a repost of a recipe would be poor form even for me, I’ve had to come up with something fresh for you today.

However, the old think box is a little bit yeah nah at the moment.

I’m running on the smell of an oily rag, and that rag bloody stinks.

So, in this clinically yeah nah state of mine, the best I’ve been able to come up with is a description of my dinner tonight – which perhaps might better communicate the funk I’m apparently in.

I started out my meal with four fig and black olive crackers I bought yesterday, smeared with raspberry jam and thick slabs of Mersey Valley cheese. The plan was to eat these slowly as I pretended to be a modern career woman, going through her emails and preparing an impressively high tax return estimate. In reality, I scoffed the bickies down in about 47 seconds and apparently owe  the Australian tax department at least $12.

I then realised I needed to prep myself some lunch for tomorrow, and ate myself another jam and cheese cracker while I sautéed some ambitious greens.

So, all up, I had five crackers, about a tablespoon of jam and like 5cm of cheese.

I then decided I would keep my biscuity dinner theme going, rolling it on to dessert. There was only one choice – the last two choc-backed Digestive bickies that had been taunting me from the pantry for days. These came into my life two weekends ago, and have been tormenting me ever since.  I mean, I know the name “digestive” makes these bickies sound like the kind of fodder designed to open old fogies’ bowels, but they’re probably my favourite biscuit. They have that rough, bran-y vibe that appeals to the cereal girl inside of me and the chocolaty goodness that answers perhaps the most difficult of calls to ignore. 

But, while I would have liked to have neatly ended my biscuit dinner on the high that was a few wheaty treaties, I felt the pang of guilt in my gut which, incidentally, feels just like the feeling you get when you eat too much cheese. And so, since I was frying some up for lunch anyway, I had a bit of kale to round things out. It was coated in oil so it was actually quite tasty, but I am disappointed I didn’t find a way to incorporate a bickie or a cracker into the mix. I’ll try harder next time.