Booze, Bars and Bags - 3 Naughty Little Indulgences.

Tjing Tjing Bar

Who needs salted peanuts to incite a kalahari style thirst in ones' patrons? Give them a moment to catch their breath after sprinting up a generous helping of stairs and they will make a bee-line for the bar in no time. This place is brimming with Cape Town, in their brogues and braces. Wooden beams, the Black Keys belting out across this rooftop courtyard. Three tousled blondes shuffle past me and I white knuckle clutch my tumbler of vodka tighter than ever. Eventually, I am slouched down in the corner against a backdrop of China-something-ish decor, surrendering myself to the night  and sinking into a chair that is like a pair of lips nearly swallowing me - however provides the ideal vantage point for a people-watching extravaganza. Like a pervy leering uncle I'm eyeing every single thing that enters my scope. I like it here, the conversations are interesting, obnoxious and loud, the women are gorgeous, the men are not popping collars. There is laughter, its sexy, warm and loads of fun.

Jorgensens Field of Dreams Absinthe

I am all for excess, I am one hundred percent okay with debauched frivolity and falling into the wanton abandon of bohemian hedonism. Field of dreams is currently top on my list of wonderful things to drink. I had not enjoyed previously commercially flavoured, spineless Absinthe. I was however very pleasantly surprised by this hearty, heavily herbaceous and woody tipple. The alchohol is not offensive and brash, but rather a polite and tummy-warming delight. Too elegant an offering to be savagely knocked back in shots, this is far more palatable diluted by three parts ice water, and a dash of sugar syrup. The required parephenalia of melting sugar over a flame and passing the Absinthe over a spoon is terribly gimmicky. Keep it simple, keep it happy, both easily attainable states after a few of these!

Missibaba

Chloe Townsend established this proudly South African label, where leather is the playground of the creative. The collection boasts an armada of investment peices, bags, clutches, belts, and jewellery. Handcrafted by an empowered group of talented women. When I do own one of these I will take it on romantic dates with my leather pumps, and we will waltz through Woolworths buying fantastic things like pomegranate Juice and chocolate mousse. I will wear it to meetings and take it away on mini-breaks to Hermanus.

Ideally, I would covet a pretty little hip-flask within a Missibaba clutch bag, lean agaisnt the staircase leading to Tjing Tjing, and have a sneaky little sip of Jorgensens before I reach my ascent.

A quick splash of fire on the tonsils - Vodka Tasting at Salt.

When I started drinking Vodka I was of the slap dash, hard and fast movement. The vile, instant gratification seeker, one of the late night party people crowd. What I knew about Vodka is, that it would usually be served straight, ice-cold, turfed down ones throat, barfed up later.

How beautifully an organised rather polite room temperature tasting can change perceptions, and what better place for enlightenment than the Salt Vodka Bar in Bantry Bay.

7 Vodkas, Locally and Internationally Produced... Blind tasted by 7 Judges (name drop-opp bypassed.) Fantaxtic cocktails, God-send Canape Platters and the fekking fantastic Clare.


Although Stolichnaya came out tops in the blind tasting, Primitiv won the fashion parade for sexy packaging. Here is my own (naughty) insight into the tasting... In a very particular order :

1 is sipped straight and slowly from a tumbler of crushed ice, 7 gets poured as a triple and mixed with Fanta Grape.

1. The hot blonde, mail-order bride of Vodka. Traditional good looks, comes as a pretty package, received smoothly, finishes clean.

2. Sultry.. musky.. soulful and full. Like a heady hazy hookup in a 70's disco lounge.

3. Raw, core richness. An amazonion cave woman who'll club you over the head, and you will enjoy every minute of it.

4. Smooth and sexy. Yes - she's a redhead but you still want to take her home.

5. Over dressed. All icing, and no cup cake.

6. The obvious classic. Short sharp, sassy and astute. Stringent neutrality with no offensive alcoholic burn.

And finally, You don't know whether she'll end up under the table or under the host. ''Hold my bag, I'm getting a shwarma.''

I can't admit to being as highly evolved a taster to observe great variance on visual clarity.. Its all clear, there is a nearly noticeable difference in viscosity that I'm not sure would ordinarily present when served ice cold.

There is a purity and depth, so innate - much like tasting the blue water sourced from glaciers. And then comparing it to Evian or Valpre. Unlike malt whiskey, or bourbon - there is no highly distinguishable characteristic that greatly sets Vodkas apart. Well, nothing personally notable. Being distilled from Rye, Viognier Grapes, Potatoes or Rice.. They deliver differently, parade as grappa's or tease your gag reflex with paraffin qualities. I want a vodka that presents clean, with depth, clarity, and simplicity. There is no pretense here... It has to be straightforward. No nostril curling qualities.. I want comfortable vapours, fleeting impressions left by an otherwise very honest spirit. And Oh how honest one becomes after a couple of shots.

It has replaced Gin as the base spirit in many cocktails.. I can dig it. Sipping on a Porn Star Martini - Vodka and Passion Fruit pulp with a bijoux flute of Bubbly on the side. I am so over Quinine. Gin can stick it.

I ventured into the land that abstinence forgot, looking for distinction over distinctiveness - I found it.

Warwick Professor Black Sauvignon Blanc.

She has a fresh and pretty face , a wiggle in her walk and a giggle in her talk, she is Eve that bit the apple, laced with temptation and delight. She is clutching a satin black purse and jumps into the cab you just hailed in down town L.A. - without batting a perfectly shadowed eye-lid. She lunches in Soho, she weekends in the Hamptons. She has elusive, star quality finesse with an enigmatic worldly character that screams ''international appeal" She is Charlize before, and after the accent. Her bust is bursting at the seams of her satin dress with class. She is all about outward access, and inward reserve, you may just never completely figure her out. Immaculate in delivery, she is a sweet talker with her eye on the ball. She will intoxicate you with her wit and finishing school values. She has the time, and the money, you will want to spend both on her. She is a champagne blonde with pearl white teeth; she is lean and moves like silk. She is a peacock of glorious boasting and complexity. She is the sweet ripe fruit of youth, dripping from your chin.

Diemersdal Matys.

George Jardine @ Jordan Restaurant

This was more like an afternoon at an Art Gallery than it was a brief lunch at Jordan Restaurant. These are not meals, George Jardine is an artist, his dishes are sensually interactive edible installations through which one can journey and enjoy epicurean wonder.

I had visited the previous Sunday, with my Jack Russell in tow and 15 minutes prior to kitchen closing cut off time. Cheeky, I know.
The deck was seated to capacity with elegent diners and enthusiastic foodies. The Maitre'D suggested we settle for a cheese board on the lawn and a light-hearted sampling of 6 wines in the tasting room. I made it my point to return again while my indulgence intentions and interest were still fresh and rampant. I was back at lunch, the very next day. Early on a Monday so I wasn't surprised by the huge contrast of a full restaurant on one day and it being empty the next.


Okay, besides a tame party of two in the corner who's conversation decibel level raised occasionally and ever so slightly just enough for me to ascertain they were French.
 
Despite it being quiet, the atmosphere is warm and welcoming. There is a simplicity to the decor and functional layout of the restaurant. The kitchen is open plan and faces the panorama of neighbouring farms and mountains. There is no attempt to over accessorize the dining experience. The focus falls solely onto the food delivered with a high standard of service. This is an approach I appreciate. It seems honest, devoid the stiffness and artificial austere air that fine dining establishments stink of. This is a touch of class without being pompous.


I sat inside watching a howling wind and grey skies outside. My table was a perfect vantage point to watch the bustling energy of the kitchen as well as take in the garden vineyards of De Morgenzon Wine Estate next door which came alive with movement of wind whipping through the vineyards and rows of wild flowers.


I had tasted the Jordan Barrel Fermented Chardonnay 2008 on my previous visit,  I found it had a gorgeous and enticing complexity that demanded some food.

Bright green lime,

stoney mineral character

and a buttery

lingering

mouthfeel.

A friendly waiter called me M'am and served me an assemblage of breads. Parsnip chips, a Poppy Seed Twist of Bread and a tiny well of Aioli (A sort of garlic/olive oil mayonnaise). My glass of wine followed shortly - Impeccable timing!

This photograph has been shamelessly copied and pasted from Chris von Ulmenstein's blog, I see she has also lunched at Jordan.

There's something almost biblical about breaking bread and drinking wine. I hoped there was fish on the menu. This could be my act of repent, for the sacrilege of arriving barefoot with my Jack Russell the day before.

I decided on the R200 for two dishes option, and with another sip of my Barrel Fermented Chardy, I embarked on the bread board. The side plate provided is a another artwork in its own right - A rustic, heavy and square ceramic plate. Nice balance to everything else that felt so sleight and dainty.


When dining out , I always order my food after having decided on the wine I will be drinking. A form follows function way of thinking. I usually also eat dessert first, then have my starter and my main. Espresso or anything pastry, chocolate,fruit filled to finish. Today was a 2 course affair however.


I chose what I think is the most complimentary pairing for a Barrrel Fermented Chardonnay.  Spring sugar snap peas, pea puree, goats cheese, pancetta, nasturtium and prune. Followed by Barrel smoked line caught hake with a fricassee of chorizo, broad beans, calamari and spinach.   

Because it is not an overly oaked infusion the subtle lime and pear flavours of Chardonnay are not lost. I found them ever more prevalent after tasting the broth in which the Hake was served. The texture of the Hake was incredible, As if I was prying a secret out of it, I gently dug my fork into the fillet and it flaked in perfectly cooked peices. As if I could have expected anything less. It was perched on a bed of spinach that floated in a seemingly Thai inspired broth, it was zesty and clean. The chorico added some salty meatiness to the dish which I enjoyed - sometimes hake can be insipid.

The nasturtium salad was so intricate in presentation and flavour, a puree of peas sat neatly on my plate, teamed with the Gorgonzola, I was in textural and taste utopia. Nutty mid palate richness that was lifted by the greens of the salad, and balanced by the gentle acidity of the wine. I would have liked to stand up and 'wooped' over at George but I thought rather not, the French twosome might not appreciate an outburst of appreciation.


The wine list is delightful, each page features quotes and quips about wine, little pieces of philosophy  that are quite endearing. I was spotted scribbling in my diary , the Maitre D offered to email the wine list and menu to me after I explained I was doing a personal review and actually enjoyed my handwritten archive of metaphors and notes. He took my details anyway and both menu and wine list were awaiting me in my inbox later that day.


I was most impressed with the personal service, Upon arrival I mentioned  I had only 60 minutes for my lunch. My courses were not rushed and my bill arrived as if they had been watching the clock for me. I was off to my next meeting without adding stress to my schedule. I finished my last sip of wine glancing over at George Jardine operate in his kitchen, it was performance art. He's so involved in his craft, Im not bothered by the fact he hasn't ventured out to his diners for the faux P.R I'm used to seeing. I feel the excellence of his dishes spoke to me far better than a conversation could. A true artists work speaks of its creator. I left thanking my waiter and host for what they added to my dining experience at Jordan Restaurant.

Jordan Restaurant with George Jardine, Jordan Winery, Stellenbosch Kloof Road, Stellenbosch.  Tel (021) 881-3612.  www.jordanrestaurant.co.za and www.jordanwines.com. Open for lunch Wednesdays - Sundays, and on Thursday and Friday evenings for dinner.

Friday Bandwidth Binge on E-zines.

Having a serious browsing session with post-design facelift Wine Magazine , and Michael Oliviers #2 Crush Online.

Dinastia Vivanco.

Poster Child for 1990's Grunge and Angst - Pearl Jam's Edddie Vedder with a mystery wine on stage in Spain...

I've been following this thread at www.thecru.co.za

Check it out.

Let them eat cake.

I adored the concept of Kobi Beef, I sampled it while I was on holiday Hong Kong and was a little disappointed - Nothing beats the vleis we get in South Africa. Our Tjops win, hands down - Every time.

Sezmu beef from 'self marinating cows' who enjoy a litre of red wine a day which apparently gives meat an exceptional aroma and flavour.

Im not sure I buy into this - The best steak I've eaten was at a seedy little roadhouse en route to Tiffindale Snow Ski Resort. I imagine the cows relax by snowboarding which accounts for their uber-soft and juicy Nyama...?

Just read the full story here.

Tasting Room Prêt-à-Porter.

Un. Cotton Dresses, not enough Tasting Rooms even with their outdoor facilities have those lovely fine sprays of mist in the midsummer heat. This is a no perfume affair!Looking flustered is not an option.

Deux. Big sunglasses for beedy eyeing, and to conceal my napping on the drive home.

Trois. Sunhats, yes long hours of leisurely picnics on Wine Estate lawns can be a little harsh on the complexion. 

Quatre. Super sexy Gypsy Bangles so you can hear me clanging around your Tasting Rooms.

Cinq. Note book, everything by hand... scribbled and doodled before it makes it's way here. All about how wine tastes like faeries and other such nonsensical metaphors. 

Six. A scarf to double up as my picnic blanky.

Sept. Canon Camera - snap happy vibes and moment-captures.

Huit. My own long stemmed tasting glass, A Baguette because crackers are very passe and no way to nab a righteous taste of Olive Oils and other such lovely delights, all stashed into my Mr Price Picnic basket.

Neuf. Astro - My adventure companion Jack Russell who most recently ran amock at the Warwick Tasting Room and Cellar to then fall asleep on an old ladie's shoe whilst she was enjoying her Lamb Shank.

Dix. An Essie Pedi - Usually barefoot, at least I should pretty my paws with something pink and glossy.

How do you like your eggs?

A young wine maker was clearly challenging me.

I find that any man who makes wine, is almost allowed to wear their well earned arrogance stripes.

Not too often though. Especially when it comes to things I want to cook, eat and enjoy.

"So, what would you pair with eggs?" 

He quips.

At this point in my life I would have to answer

"Um, Progesterone?"

Unimpressed he attempted to roll his eyes back into his head. After a bit of thought and hunger panging - I arrived at what I like to think is tres perfect.. Something I would make for breakfast in my parents home on the farm with Ridgeback Puppies knocking all me around the kitchen.

Tortilla de Patata with pan tossed
Parma Ham ribbons lightly dressed with Truffle Oil.
Served with Crostini. 
Fresh summer strawberries on a bed of rocket.
Accompanied by Balsamic Reduction and cracked Black Pepper Corns.
Paired with a crisp and bone-dry glass of Ross Gower Pinot Noir Methode Cap Classique 2006.

For something as light as Eggs you need Bubbles.

Parma Ham and Truffle Oil equals nutty smoky divination.

Black Pepper and Rocket gives an aromatic and fresh bite.

Summer strawbs with a sweet reduction/glaze sings harmony with the Parma Ham.

Crostini has crunch, and is great for a bit of balance to the texture experience of the soft Potato and Eggs. You have to do this with coarse salt though, and maybe the Sunday Times doubling up as your breakfast in bed placemat.

Best enjoyed with BBC on the telly and the Ridgebacks alseep at the bottom of a kingsize bed.

This is a break-slow I would make very soon after payday. Not for any special occasion other than that of gluttony and flavour obsession.

Not so White Wine.

Make way for the future of brand savvy South African movement leaders of colour, culture and Street Fabulosity.

The Smarteez- Black on the inside multicoloured on the outside.

The scene is set on a rhythm surged Sunday in Soweto at Panyaza Chisa Nyama, Zulu for "Cook the Meat" this is the hub of fashion and trend spotting for the economically empowered sexy young and happening crowd. Most of these kids are rocking IT and Fashion careers, whilst butterflying the social circuit in and around Jozi's Burbs. They roll up in BMW'S, Mini Coopers, 4X4's and Audis and Chryslers. You can smell success and wealth in the air.

There’s a certain music video aesthetic that accompanies this entourage of Black Diamonds, Big sound, Big rims, Big presence, Big hair, Big labels. This is about status, about wealth, and the finer things in life.

Louis Vuitton paired with Boys School Pants from Pep, teamed with a Prada bag and cheap plastic sunnies from the William Nicol Street vendors. The style speaks of the extremes in wealth seen in Soweto. Mansions amongst matchbox houses. A Lexus stopped at a traffic light next to a dented Corolla with a bumper sticker that reads “A black man is always a suspect”

Ethnic Diversity, too cool.

A sleek and nubile choco-skinned princess with an expensive weave and huge Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses pours out of a barely road worthy taxi. She can funnagalore cuss the taxi driver in one breath and hold a well versed intellectual conversation in the next. She might live in Bryanston now, but she drops into iLoxion for some of that soul shake down goodness The Burbs can’t offer. Not even Capital Records or Moloko in Rosebank.

There are iconic brands that epitomize a Black Diamond, these are not racial generalizations but more like status symbols. Drinking Johnny Walker Black, Driving a Chrysler Voyager, A house in Blue Valley. Soon enough big Wine Brands are going to be added to this list along with an iconic cult status spin-off.

The land of milk and honey brings together a melting of pot cultural influences, these are socially aware luxury living individuals who define themselves by immersing their existence into Music, Art, Fashion and Business. Basically - Putting the style, back into Lifestyle.

Forbes.com says “Upwardly mobile with huge spending power”

TNS Research Surveys (Pty) Ltd and the UCT have indicated that 72% of the bracket believe that “the way your children dress, speak and are educated is a reflection of your wealth"

There is no disregard to culture however, amongst the , a place of extreme poverty and wealth you will find some of the hottest and progressive places to party, chill, eat dance dine and most recently - wine. You can eat chicken neck and walkie-talkies washed down with Premier Label whisky’s and Bourbons.

Sedibeng Pub & Restaurant in Soweto ,is a premier high-energy classy bistro style pub and upmarket shebeen has become a landmark for foreign tourism. All that is needed now, to fuel the wine interest is a sassy wine list to accompany the afro-cuisine on offer.

The Rock in Rockville Soweto, where some of SA's Talented DJ's play to a designer label clad crowd, a fashion catwalk of statement and self expression may just be absorbing a wine bar concept into their current model. The possibilities are there, as is the purchasing power.

iKapa has its own Multiracial Hot Spot. - Mzolis in Gugulethu. A friendly and beautiful mash of skin colour and style. Its all about Nyama here, summer time flesh being shown off by the girls as well as the pap and braavlies extravaganza sizzling on the grill. Siya Groova to Deep Afro House, Jazz inspired dance music. Pure thick and heavy tribal percussion styled jams that us Mlungu's just dont have. Just as patrons can bring their own booze from neighbouring shebeens, we may see chilled bottles of Sauvignon popping out of oversized Marc Jacobs handbags.

Uya Bona. It is evident that a white mans nectar has transgressed supremacist boarders and is now a huge part of African Culture. And by huge I mean the reported 7548 enthusiastic attendees at the 6th Annual SOWETO WINE FESTIVAL 2010 which saw record numbers in participation and sales.

Effective marketing meets the market where it’s at.

Bring the wine lands to streets!

Click here to view wine fabulosity.

 

“It was a magnificent sight that makes the heart beat with pride. What a crowd of beautiful people. We are extraordinarily proud of this event and how the trendsetters of Soweto and Gauteng have made the Soweto Wine Festival theirs in every way. We attribute this record number of visitors to the fact that wine is for every South African and that this market is on its way to becoming the primary wine market in South Africa. We suggest wine marketers take note to include this market in their marketing plans from here on in.”

Marylin Cooper of Cape Wine Academy and Founder of the Soweto Wine Festival.

Unlikely Food and Wine Pairing.

Ideally white wine should be served at 12 degrees celcius, from a long stemmed Tulip shaped glass that funnels towards the rim allowing concentration of aromas to show off the bouquet.

 Ideally.

So, if you’re a girl or boy about town you may have heard about eating sushi off naked models in Greenpoint? This delightfully skanky adventure had me within my usual gaggle of girlfriends with their boast-worthy list of job titles. See: Insurance Broker, Head Designer, Ceramics Extraordinaire, Party Girl, Dance Culture Journalist and (yours truly) Little Miss Mouthy. We ooze savoir-faire sometimes.

Not really.

 We are just ladies who love to max out on the joys of the Hedonism Capital of the country.

After eyebrow-arching our way through a crass little comedy performance a unanimous thirst had set in. We deliberated over the wine list and decided on a light and easy Jordan Chameleon Sauvignon/ Chardy blend. The restaurant was loud and bustling with pre-perve Mavericks Patrons who had dropped in for a sushi and skin binge.

So, like, maybe the waitress hadn’t heard me?The promised models were sprawled Mavericks strippers in all their JT-One hipster glory lying atop the bar in front of a black curtain. A small yellow hand poked through occasionally to replenish the feed. Upon closer inspection their paws were stuffed into Perspex-heeled Stilettos that revealed craterlike heels and chipped blue nail polish

Still no wine.

Mid skinner about a head-case sister in law, one of the beauts at my table did one of those over exaggerated attention grabbing gasps. “Ohhhhh my WORD” she snapped. “That chick is from the Joost sex tape, I read Heat ALL the time, I swear.”

I am now parched.. but news of this scandal detracts me from the wino-craving.

“Oh my God” We chorused. Out came the Blackberry’s. A frenzy of French manicured nails were thumbing through online content and within minutes my crew had done some savvy P.I work, we were huddled over my mates android phone, watching the sex tape on Youtube, Googling her pics, checking her Facebook AND previous newspaper headlines featuring our sushi platter Marilize van Emmenis. All the dirt dished on the coke sniffing lap dancer. Suddenly the fashion sandwiches become very last season.

I was STILL thirsty.

I caught a glimpse of the waitress. Towards me she minced, holding my wine and an ice bucket.SureIy Chameleon

 “KA MEE LEE ON” sounds nothing like Haute Cabriere “AAAUT CA BRI ERR”

But a R350 bottle of the latter arrived at our table. I don’t care how phonetically-challenged you are, I did not stutter.

Eventually our much needed Chameleon appeared like a beacon of hope, and was poured in a hefty clumsy glug. She missed the glass completely. She managed to get it ALL over my new black nylon leggings.

I have thus decided that Jordan Chameleon Sauvignon Blanc/Chardonnay 2009 blend is best served with the shrill laughter of 5 friends, and drank by sucking it out of the nylon weave from one’s tights.

I would love to say it went well with hepatitis-maki, but no – Just some socially aware techno-savvy ladies and a good camera is all this wine needs.

You say Grassy... I say Grass Burns.

You say Accessible.. I say Easy.

You say Affordable.. I say Cheap.

I love Arabella - it's a crowd pleaser. I also love Promo Girls who stand at Tops or Ultraliquors pushing me things in yellow boob tubes and massive grins, fake tans with newly peroxided curtains of hair.

Cheers to that.

House of Krone Brut Rose 2005

With a quick glance at the 2005 vintage, I imagined 5 years of summers imprisoned inside this bodacious bottle of bubbly just waiting for the perfect spring day. With a confident and swift slice of the bottle, I would sabrage it to freedom, selectively, to my audience of gaggling gossiping twenty something Cape Town It-Girls. A sort of 'post winter picnic' on the lawns of a bijoux speciality foods deli in Tulbagh aptly named "Things I Love"

And elegant fountain of evervescence leapt forth like a released prisoner, exploding into conjugal copulation with the heady warmth of the budding season.

Lucky we shaved our legs for this one.

Flavours that frolicked with the elation of Puck and his faerie following- We are spellbound and delighted.

Make-believe powdered confectioners sugar coats our glossed pouts. On the palet there are punnets of fruit, mostly strawberries. In my minds eye they are big and fat, sexy like thick tongues. At the same time, delicate rose petals have fallen to adorn frosted and dewy morning grass. The bubbles are unassuming and present politely much the same as the first few gentle sparks of evening stars that poke through the twilight veil of a midsummers night, slowly but solidly becoming a full blown interstellar fizz.

A menagerie of flamingo, new born baby girl clothes, disco rollerskates, candy floss, fruit pastilles and turkish delight.

Its a satin prom dress worn by a knockout blonde. This is summer, for Tuna Roses topped with Japanese Mayo sprinkled with caviar. This is for wild Knysna Oysters, smell the ocean and taste the springtime. This is for Swordfish and Parma Ham skewers blackened on the braai. This is what supermodels drink when they are doing their hair.

This is just Fabulous.

Mrs Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?

If this wine were a woman, she would have a sleek Braun appliance adorned kitchen, within which she would bake you soft Banana Bread. If you were to swing by her house during the holiday season, say, Christmas time.. She would disarm you upon entry to her home. She would greet you at the door in one of those awful thick knit Mrs Clause sweaters. All to conceal a La Perla bodice hugging a burlesque landscape of curves. 

She is a heap of complex contradiction, without an ounce of fight to her character. Like the hearty weight and fruity Christmas cake of Hermitage integrated with  ethereal liquid silk quality of Pinot Noir 

She is all outward access and inward reserve.

She has warm and inviting deep set hazel eyes, heavy with intent. Like Pools of chocolate laced with coffee liqueur. Like a lonely Nigella Lawson, feeding you fruit cake in her palatial palace, perfect for fireside courtship. She makes you want to sleep in late, and be creamy milk she.. AHEM... Dips her cookies into.