Friday morning began with a much-needed lie-in until 10am, and still I didn't feel like getting up. Buried under comforters on a bed of pillows on an overcast, autumn morning... all I really wanted was a steaming mug of tea and a cookbook to read.
But, you know, on the day of a wibbly-wobbly Halloween get-together, you force yourself out of bed, do a bit of cleaning and laundering, turn some Madeleine Peyroux on the stereo, and simmer up some salted caramel.
Chelsea and Liz have had a few dinner parties already this semester, so Noosh and I decided it was our turn to host...something.
[Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.]
But really, Halloween weekend called for one thing and one thing only: a Doctor-Who themed party.
Not that, you know, all of my friends are fans. In fact, the vast majority haven't watched. So really, it was more of an excuse for me to wear a bow-tie and cook up some fish custard.
Noosh and I first stumbled upon this recipe a few months ago, and immediately I fell in love. The graham cracker "coating" is absolutely brilliant, and give the cookies the appearance of honest-to-God fish fingers. Words cannot describe how enamored I am with these things. They taste fantastic as well, which is only a plus, really.
So after about 9 hours of cooking custard, baking fish fingers and jammie dodgers, listening to everything from Louis Armstrong to Don Omar with Noosh preparing the TARDIS door, our apartment was full of the sounds of laughter, chatter, music, The Green Lantern, Hello Kitty, and Freida Kalho, a rather disturbing-looking cockroach, unnamed doctors and Sabeen's-apartment-occupiers, hilarious and somewhat horrifying Bollywood dancing, and happy mouths munching on good food. A success in all senses of the word, over all.
And by the time we were done cleaning up by around 1:30, I promptly passed out and slept for about 9 hours straight.
And I've spent the vast majority of the hour and a half I've been up uploading photographs and listening to Cabin Pressure on Youtube [quite the brilliant radio show, sent to me by a sweet friend who knows of my utter obsession with Benedict Cumberbatch's brilliant theatrical timing and jaguar-hiding-in-a-cello voice], not really wanting to get out of my comfortable bed.
Having discarded the suit-jacket, the bow-tie, and the formal button-down, though, I must say it's nice not to have a career that requires me to dress up like a flamboyant British gentleman on a daily basis. Fun as it was, I'll leave it to the professionals.
I much prefer watching them from the comfort of my living room sofa.
Preferably with a bowl of fish custard in hand.