But soft! What light through yonder breaks? It is some hope, and successful adulthood is the sun. Arise, fair sun!

By Shakespeare's beard, the sun seems to be rising. Granted, it's just peering over the horizon, but my "grown-up"attempts seem to be more Horatio than Bottom. Although, the sun only seems to be rising in the kitchen. My flatmate's rather thrilled at that thought - she no longer has to eat bland, burnt food. Who knows, maybe she won't have to supervise me in the kitchen anymore...

I reached the peak of my culinary excellence last night when I made chickpea and butternut curry, and puris (puris are a type of fried Indian bread). My flatmate and a friend who joined us for supper agreed that the meal was positively delicious. 

Double, double toil and trouble. Miraculously, this tasted nothing like eye of newt or toe of frog.

Technically puris are meant to be round, but I'm sure there must be a culinary version of poetic licence that I can appeal to.

For sooth, I am no Nigella Lawson. I was somewhat hesitant about mixing butter and flour together with my hands (that's the beginning of making dough - yeah I'm smart like that now), but eventually started enjoying it. It reminded me of play-dough. Alas, I had to stop short of colouring it green and making dinosaurs - I'm trying to be more Horatio than Bottom, remember? Instead of brontosauruses, I had to roll the dough out flat. This meant I needed a rolling-pin. I didn't have a rolling-pin. 

A little improvisation led to me using the cardboard tube that cling wrap is winded over. Judging by my mother's roar of laughter when I told her, I assume that this wasn't a particularly "grown-up" thing to do. I did say the sun was just peeking over the horizon.

Evidence of my creative recycling.