Because normal people stay up past midnight making meringue to serve up a dessert named after a ballerina to their chums the following day, right?
Mes pals, I present my pizza de résistance: pavlova.
Last time I made pavolva it was an emergency affair one Christmas morning following the Lamentable Tragedy of the Unsettable Champagne Jelly. This time may have involved post class, late night kitchen adventures but a vastly more preferable state of affairs… I think.
The proof, as they say, is in the pudding and we’ll see how my
victimschums feel about it later!