09.10.2014 – Home-Made Ice cream (chocolate)

When we leave the boat, he immediately catches Markus by his hand and with a sweet tone repeats his name. And Markus knows. He always knows. And he is always prepared to act. And willing. He loves to do whatever David wants from him. Yes, I said it before, he is never sick of him.

We walked to our favourite coffee and David ordered some sweet bakery and tea. His happiest moment. That was why he was repeating Markus' name. The urge to have sweet.

Earlier that day I cooked something from the rests I found in the fridge. Not really my day, I must admit. But he loved it. Pasta with pepper and carrot. (Yes, he loved it even though there was carrot involved!) And he liked the way I cut the carrot. Jamie taught me. You just use the peeler and the result is some nice thin slices instead of boring squares.

So after my pasta, we took our old bikes and cycled to the boat and ended up in the coffee shop having roll. Well, David ended up having roll.

Back at home I decided to make home-made ice-cream. Chocolate, to be precise. First he hesitated to help me, he was busy with the internet, but then I started to slice the dark chocolate and he heard the noise and innocently asked: “What was that?” So I was forced to give him some and he was forced to help me. Wisp the cream and licking the bowl, I mean.

When the ice cream was ready I leave it in the freeze and now we all are waiting for the result. Some of us more than others. And David very often offers to mix the ice cream for me since that also means he can lick the spoon each time.

What will come out of it? 

Recipe for the Home - Made Ice Cream (Chocolate)

2 - 3 dl milk 

30 g cocoa

150 ml heavy cream

50 g sugar (preferably brown if you have)

100g baking chocolate (break into smaller pieces)

1. Bring the milk with the sugar to boil and then add the baking chocolate pieces and cocoa. 

2. At this point, set aside the liquid from the heat and continue stiring until the chocolate is completely melted. 

3. Allow the liquid to cool.

4. Once it's cool, add the whisped heavy cream, mix properly and put into bowl and into the freezer to freeze for at least five hours. 

5. Mix it every half an hour just to prevent the ice to settled down into it.

08.10.2014 – Gnocchi alla Davide

  "Auuuch…" he says. But I can't cook anything since he has to work for one more hour and I'm going to run. My regular run. That was actually David's and Daniel's idea. Daniel is a sport maniac and David needs to stay fit. (And to lose weight into XXXXXS jeans, I suppose.)

So I'm preparing him some corn flakes and he says: “And will I get my own bowl?!” he's scared that I'm planning to eat it with him which I won't. “You know that I'm going to run, are you? I'm not going to eat, this one's just for you.” He signs with relief. Then he waits till I put his yoghurt on his corn flakes and open a bottle of nuttela. And Daniel is watching us with his critical eye as if he was saying: “What's the point in trying anyway?” but he's silent.

What I definitely need to mention is that David isn't retarded! He's incredibly sexy and hot. He really does look GOOD. He's handsome. Blond, tall, skinny. He has the cutest smile in the whole world. He has dark eyes and is so sweet when he's laughing.

And he's great in bed. Period. (This is the last time you hear me saying something like that.)

He can be serious, he really can. And attractive. But most of the time he deliberately chooses to act silly. As a child or rather as someone who can afford to act in a childish way and still remain absolutely irresistible.

Yes, sometimes he gets on my nerves. (Only mine because Markus is never fed up with him.)

And yes, sometimes he gets lost in his own plays and games and forgets to be “normal” again. But this is David. This is him. It belongs to him. To be the centre of the attention. All the time. (He competes with his best friend Victor though. Sometimes they even fight who gets more attention for longer time.)

Back to Gnocchi.

I put the Håkan Hälström CD into the player and I call for David to help me with making home-made gnocchi. He can do that. He helped me many times. We cooked the potatoes. Now we are making the pastry. And David has to separate the yolks and he hates eggs. Very sad since Markus, his boyfriend adores eggs. He needs to have at least one every day. So David is making sounds of discuss and I´m ignoring him. 

“Asch eggs…. And asch meal….” 

“But you love them to eat.” I remark. 

“Sure but they are discussing…” 

After that we have to make some “snakes” like we call it from the pastry and cut it into pieces. David invented cool method how to make round gnocchi, so he does them and he throws them into the boiling water in a way the water jumps from the pot everywhere, on the walls and also on him. He doesn’t give a shit. Throwing gnocchi is certainly more fun that just insert them carefully to the hot water. I'm careful not to say anything, he is allergic on critic. I can't say anything. I tried once or twice and you can't imagine the crazy reaction and anger. Must be some issue from his formative years.

“Finally you're cooking me something from potatoes, again.” He comments. Which sounds like he who loves potatoes so much never gets them and it's only me who choose the meal. Partly true.

While we're doing this monotone activity, Håkan is playing some romantic songs and it's everything so very romantic. Me and David and pastry everywhere and Håkan sings: “I'm twenty one….” And David adds: “No you are not…” and when the CD continues and Håkan has the courage to repeat his thoughts again: “I'm just sixteen..” David gets almost irritated. “What's his problem? He's old, isn't he?” and there is no point in explaining that this is just poetic licence of him, cause David hates Håkan from some reason and make me hard time right now. 

“Are you going to make some sauce as well?” he asks and I will, so he leaves me and goes to check instagram or facebook or whatever and when the meal is finished I'm so tired that I am hardly able to eat. And when he finishes first his portion he looks at me suspiciously: “I must have given you one gnocchi more, since you haven't finished yet.”