Smile… it’s Christmas

christmas ham mojo
“Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…”

This was true of our house this Christmas; the night before and the morning of.

It was as if we had official National Department of Communicable Diseases’ tape and a big sign with an important signature on it at the front gate stating we were quarantined due to sweaty faces and risk of E-bola contamination…

There were some ducks at the lake. We did not eat the ducks
There were some ducks at the lake. We did not eat the ducks

In actual fact, in a rare venturing from the track of entertainment central, this year we have abstained from inviting hordes of friends and relatives to stay and have instead veered down the road of the relative silence of an “us” Christmas. Just me, Jennee and the boys at home this year. No waking up and stepping over bodies scattered everywhere, cooking breakfast and brewing coffee for the state rugby team or waiting in line to use the shower.
I smoked my own Christmas ham and then hit it up with a mojo marinade, just like I said I would
I smoked my own Christmas ham and then hit it up with a mojo marinade, just like I said I would

We would have a picnic at the lake and catch up with some friends and have a few drinkies and some nice food, but this Christmas our house shall be our sanctuary. We shall be the endangered small bush land marsupial and our home shall be a refuge from the progression of modern society; a place where we shall be able to live safely and breed again… but soon they shall release us back into our natural habitat. Next year we shall be returned to the wild, in vast numbers and with a veracious appetite for loose women and the white mans devil water!
It was nom-licious (a hybrid of nom nom nom and delicious… it could take off)
It was nom-licious (a hybrid of nom nom nom and delicious… it could take off)

Oh yeah, and I did make that mojo ham with the pina colada salsa. Smoked my own ham and the whole package (not my “whole package”, I feel I should add. More of a figuratively speaking type “whole package”). I am so full of ham now I am almost past the point of having a food baby, or food baby twins or even food baby sextuplets. In fact, I am so full that if I were to have an actual food baby the call would go out to the next shire for more midwives to facilitate the delivery.
I made a cake. Chocolate fudge cake in fact, with a coconut and berry mousse centre. I based this recipe on one I found at heaps cool blog - Laura's Mess. I'll put the link at the bottom of the page because I can't put it in this caption
I made a cake. Chocolate fudge cake in fact, with a coconut and berry mousse centre. I based this recipe on one I found at heaps cool blog – Laura’s Mess. I’ll put the link at the bottom of the page because I can’t put it in this caption

It’s been a great Christmas. We hope yours was full of good food, good booze, great chums and other things that make your face smile.

Lots of love from the couch,

Your friends at foodisthebestshitever x

Find Laura’s Mess (the blog, not the actual mess) right here

Foam Cafe, Lennox Head, NSW

foam cafe lennox head I woke to a crisp morning air, but soon enough the sharpness of the early morning air was contrasted, thick with the aromas of shitty coffee and burnt toast. The smell did not stem from our kitchen but it was there… in the air… filling my nasal passage. The decision to get the hell outta dodge for breakfast was a foregone conclusion. We headed east, toward the Pacific Ocean, and luckily we found ourselves an eatery before we were submersed in said ocean. The eatery was called Foam. Yeah, Foam. Just when I thought it was a word used to describe the bubbly stuff they pump onto half naked uni students on Foam Party night at the local club, they go and use the same word to name a café. Genius! So we step into Foam and our first impressions are good… really good. The place is clean and oozing north coast beachside chic. The cleanliness was enough to get me going and the north coast beachside chic just helped us to realise where we were; on the north coast in a café near the beach.

The breakfast menu looks exactly like this
The breakfast menu looks exactly like this

We are greeted by a super friendly waitress who gets us a table, brings us menus, takes our drink order and has a smile on her face the whole fucking time. Like, a real smile, not one of those smiles that look like you’re forcing it for your year five class photo or, even worse, one of those smile that doesn’t even pass as looking like you’re forcing a smile but instead looks like you might be forcing a poo.

Now that is a damn fine looking coffee
Now that is a damn fine looking coffee

The goodness continued when our coffees arrived, delivered by another genuinely happy person but this time in male form. The Allpress coffee was delicious. It is very quickly becoming one of my favourites, even though it doesn’t tick the box marked “local”, it is just a damn fine product and at the hands of these folks it was allowed to reach it’s full potential.

Seba waiting for me to get some black pud into his breaky burger
Seba waiting for me to get some black pud into his breaky burger

More goodness continued in the form of our breakfast. The boys are becoming as predictable as the office tart at the staff Christmas party, with their choices of the bacon and egg rolls made within the first few seconds of perusing the menu. They were damn fine breaky rolls too, except for the store bought BBQ sauce… I want a little home made relish or chutney in a 10 buck breaky roll.

My quesadilla
My quesadilla

Jennee had a roast pumpkin something with grilled haloumi, poached eggs, toast and half a field of baby spinach. I didn’t pay a heap of attention to it, apart from the acre of spinach, but Jennee said it was damn tasty and she looked authentically happy, so that was good enough for me.

It looks a bit of a rabble, but it was damn tasty
It looks a bit of a rabble, but it was damn tasty

I ordered the caramelized onion quesadilla with a side of black pudding (I shouldn’t have bothered as most of it was scoffed by the younglings), which also came anointed with the canopy of a tropical rainforest. Once I had hacked my way through the foliage though, it revealed a tasty breakfast. It’s not that I don’t like my greens, I just think that shit needs to be manicured, much like the “other bush” which we shall not be discussing today. Maybe the thick layer of greenery was a form of insulation to keep the meal warm? Anyway, the quesadilla was damn tasty, oozing it’s cheesey-caramelised onion filling all over my plate… and beard if I am to be totally honest. The eggs were cooked perfectly, the chorizo was awesome (I heard it might be home made) and the little saucy number that adorned the dish was just what it needed to complete the package. Magic.

… and a short trek to Lake Ainsworth
… and a short trek to Lake Ainsworth

My belly was full, my caffine-o-meter was at med-high and my face was smiling. A quick dip in Lennox Head’s imfamous Lake Ainsworth AKA the Ti Tree Lake and it was back home to see if the burnt toast smell had dissipated yet… You can find the Foam facey page right here.