Thursday, August 12, 2010


Today the ladies of my local land had a crazy bake-off.

Inspired by the geniuses at Mamabake, we got together after pre-school and school drop-off this morning to spank each other with frilly underpants and have tickle fights.

(That's for you, Keith.)

No, we baked. Baked baked baked. We baked hard and we baked long, my buddies. We chopped, we stirred, we fried and we rolled. We laughed and we cried. (We really did.) The premise of Mamabake is that you gather together, cook up a storm and go home with a selection of different meals for the freezer.

We all arrived feeling a little like this.

Me, I decided to start chopping two pumpkins, nine onions and a slab of bacon during the pre-school prep. I am disorganised, and I am irrational. But I am enthusiastic, dammit, and it drags me forward, even though my pants fall down perhaps more often than the average person.

We had such a good time. My favourite memory (apart from the unexpected appearance of Alicia's spectacular lady-humps) was this conversation:

Baker A: I feel like I am really shouting too much at the kids.
Baker B: Actually, when I'm losing it I just emotionally withdraw. I think that's worse.
Baker C: Oh no. I think it's good for them to have a steady amount of each.

Somebody left an unattended Ted at the pastry station.

The lovely Sarah had a pleasant time. Because brandishing a big knife at a beloved toddler going through a whinging phase is frowned upon in most societies. But nobody judges you for really going to town on the potatoes. So she diced those babies. Diced 'em good.

Al checked for poison.

Jen was so smokin', she even busted out some Solid Gold moves while (wo) manning a stove.

And in the end: Booty!

Pumpkin and bacon tarts, sausage rolls, chicken casseroles and minestrone. Extras of everything packaged up for our beloved Chrystie, who is pregnant as anything and ready to drop.

Two more women in the hood are peachy too, so our next couple of Mamabake sessions will be in honour of the new babies. Babies! Buddies! Coffee! Cake! Unexpected comedy nipples! What's not to love?


  1. Jings! Can you send me the recipe for the bacon and pumpkin tart? I remember eating Sammy's (ooh er) years ago and have never forgotten it. Merci!

  2. been trying to rustle up some interest in a mamabake around here but no takers yet (who does all the washing up)

    word verif = Knort (ALMOST norks)LOL

  3. I want in! Looks awesome

  4. what a fabulous day it was rach, you write so beautifully, thankyou for getting us motivated..i love teddy at the pastry station,i left him a good minute before i alerted you!!!

  5. I will add this to my long list of 'things I will talk about constantly but probably never get around to'.

  6. That sounds like so. much. fun!!

  7. This is such a bloody brillinat idea and I reckon could actually get me cooking!!! i love it!!!

  8. I have never heard of a mamabake but I LOVE it. And yes, HERE I AM!! Still here with no impending signs of bursting... unfortunately. I don't know how many more days i can waddle. Love the post and photos. xx m.

  9. Oh we DO that too! Infrequently, maybe because for us it also involves copious amounts of wine and then the men drive us home.... hmmm.... FUN AND PRODUCTIVE all the same.

  10. MamaMogantosh,
    thanks for visiting my blog. When I saw your's, I thought, "Oh for cup cakes, she's one of those crazy Mamabakers!"

  11. I'm still giggling over this post and having trouble erasing the nipple-flashing from my mind. While at the same time nodding and thinking 'what a superb, community-minded, supportive, fun thing to do.' And yet, the nipple-flashing... what the?!

  12. Brilliant. Such a great idea, and looks like heaps of fun!

  13. Hi, I just landed here from pmm, and this post is so good, I feel like a child that wasn't invited to a super cool party! Looks like you all had such a good time and headed off with the dinner done. Perfect day!

  14. Im one of the envious ones too. Brilliant way to attack a kitchen.


Thanks for talking to me. I don't got cooties. Oh, except for when I got cooties.