Tonight I saw a band called Monotaxi. I specially liked their glittery aqua blue guitar. I spent today wandering away from home and away from, well, everything, trying hard to come to terms with the word "comfortable". Am I comfortable where I live? With who I am, and with what my ambitions are, and with how many of them are being realised? Perhaps, like my bulging wardrobe full of clothes, my ambitions and aims have become confused and cluttered, some worn out and replaced but none yet fully discarded. No clear style has ever emerged out of my wardrobe other than "purple". No clear aim has ever emerged out of my life other than "make shiny things". I'm not a very clear-cut person. Perhaps I should make purple shiny things.
I can make chocolate cake though. It's one of the things I'm good at. I can't blame my expanding waistline on anyone but myself when I make stuff like this. Melt 300g darkest chocolate with 275g whitest sugar and 165g hard baking margarine (or butter if you're not allergic). Melt them slowly, in a glass dish over hot water, stirring, inhaling the vapour and watching the bizarre crunchy lumps turn to glistening dark goo. Don't microwave it; that'll take the soul out of the recipe. Beat 5 large eggs together and stir them into to the hot chocolate slowly to form a glossy, gloopy batter. Pour into a well greased cake time with a removeable base. Bake at 180 degrees for 35-40 minutes, cool, and remove the sides of the tin. Serve in small wedges. Its more of a baked mousse than a cake, and I nicked the original recipe from the Green and Black's cookbook My friend stray named this cake; after first tasting it, she said "Wow, that's like... porn for the mouth! it's pure filth!" and so it became... Filth Cake. Enjoy!
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