What can I say, I'm a culinary genius. (And modest to boot.)

We are staying in Himself's mother's house for a few days, "babysitting" his 16 year old sister who will be starting her Junior Cert in 15 days time but seems unperturbed by the prospect of looming exams. She's certainly not letting them stand in the way of a hectic social life.

That's really a blog post for a whole 'nother day - this post is mostly me crowing about how I made crab cakes [crab cakes!!! Far from crab cakes I was reared, wha'] for dinner last night. And they were a great success - unheard of for the debut of a meal prepared by moi, because usually it takes me two or three or, ehem, even four attempts of a recipe to work the kinks out. And I never usually like things I've cooked myself; sometimes I think that slaving over a hot stove when you're not *that* into cooking really takes the enjoyment out of a meal.

Anyway, these little laddies looked fantastic and were absolutely deeeeelicious, topped with guacamole and served with a rocket and baby plum tomato salad.

"Delicious" was the general consensus, but Himself's sister was having none of it: she went with spaghetti hoops or some such for her main meal of the day and made various "ewww", pukey, "they're so gross" noises about my lovely crab cakes.

Frankly, though, I refuse to be insulted by the opinion of someone who (a) is a teenager, and (b) thinks that a frozen Margarita pizza is the height of culinary sophistication.