if yer walking through the scrum that is the underground passageway between town hall station and the queen victoria building (and beyond), and you inadvertantly look backward towards the space beneath the escalators that used to be a flower shop, you will be surprised (or not, seeing as this has been the current growth sector of the small portable food industry for the last couple of years, following sushi roll holes-in-the-walls and those goddamn city convenience stores) to find that it has become a gelato stand called, i think, “mondo”.
it’s one of those places where the gelato is piled high above the stainless steel tubs, with specimens of the raw product that is the main flavour base perched on the crest. in the front corner of the glass case is a milky white mountain studded through with red. it looks like alpine springtime, snow thinning to reveal new blossoms beneath. this is the flavour: white chocolate and raspberry. i want some.
i should be blogging more regularly, no? maybe you really want to know about the leftover fish congee that i had for dinner last night while watching last week’s “ER” on videotape, or the picnic embarked on, solo, last friday at cremorne point (cheese and tomato with seeded mustard and mayonnaise sandwich, a mandarin and two spicy fruit roll biscuits, on a rock, under a tree, watching the spirit of tasmania sail into the harbour).
you might think that being in the family way, as i am, would result in adventures in more and better eating, what with the crazy food cravings and the eating for two and all, but it’s all been very normal: no weird food has been desired, no extra portions dished out. i can’t even provide pitiful stories of throwing up and having to eat nothing but dry crackers and flat gingerbeer. i could blog about pregnancy in general, but really, everything is so… normal, and other people do it so well already.
slowly, though, i’m outgrowing all my clothes, and the speed at which my intestines fill up with gas is most alarming. a bit past halfway, if there’s one effect on good eating that being knocked up has had, it’s that i can’t fit as much food in my stomach at one go as i once could. here is last night’s conversation with my sister:
nellie: how’s the baboo?
bowb: good. umm. it’s growing. it’s taking up too much space in my belly.
nellie: hah! no space for food!
nellie: heh! resentful…
lordy, is that the time? i must go make some mushrooms on toast.