Dong dong chang

It was going to have happened at some point. And it has.

Ste got home from work last Friday and I told him to get out of his work clothes, pronto. I'd already prepared everything we needed ahead of time (butter, sugar, loads of butter) and a range of implements for creaming and whipping. It was now just up to us to do the deed: get down on it and get our hands dirty.

It turned out to be a fairly straightforward procedure and the mess didn't get too out of control, thank goodness. As a matter of fact, I was rather pleased with the outcome of our first attempt: a batch of delectable (looking) coconut cookies! They're the ones with the suggestive red cherries on top ... in containers plastered with unabashedly auspicious, in-your-face gaudy, stickers that were purchased (excitedly, I should add) from Chinatown in Singapore.


On Saturday, we persevered with our little project and completed the pastry for what eventually became the world's largest pineapple tarts. Yes indeed --- please make room for the one-time only, one-gulp only, palm-sized pineapple PIES ...


... which in all fairness taste pretty good. Once you get over the initial shock at their massive proportions (think sandwich).

But there you go: a home truth acquired from a light brush with home economics. Same kitchen, same pairs of hands, same utensils ... but it's anybody's guess as to what will emerge from the oven.