Jamie Oliver eat your heart out!

Mr Beara went off to the depths of regional NSW to spend the weekend with relatives whilst I had my teenaged sister round to stay. She's a lacto-ovo vegetarian and likes home-prepared foods -- as long as it's nothing too exotic -- so our meals consisted of, hopefully, moderatly healthy "kid food" staples: pizza, pasta, pie'n'chips, mashed potato, toasted sandwiches and an enormous vat of vanilla soy ice-cream. I stocked the cupboards with two-minute noodles (I recommend 'Bengal Tiger Curry' and 'Spicy Dragon Ramen'!) and healthy breakfast cereal -- the sweet cinnamon Orangutan-O's were a big breakfast hit along with our more pedestrian wholegrain toast'n'Vegemite and kiwifruit.

The only culinary consideration is that the sight of mushrooms causes her great emotional turmoil so my kitchen was a fungus-free zone for 2-and-a-half days. I also promised to not provide a dish containing mung beans without advance warning. But she happily ate textured soy protein and a few other 'exotic' things she'd not tried before.

Though, it took me a while to work out why she went strangely silent every mealtime -- we seemed to have about six of them daily -- till I spotted the tell-tale white iPod (my iPod, mind you) cord betwixt hair and clothing which was quickly repatriated with my work handbag and hidden away!

Evil Beastie Cat, meanwhile, spent most of the weekend suspended by his claws from behind curtains or the underside of the dining table with eyes of a dangerous, maleficent green.

After 24 hours of intense exhibition of hatred towards guest and self-induced fasting, he came trotting out with belly and jowls swinging in unison and made bleating noises indicating his emply dinner bowl and, as long as no one made any sudden movements, he managed to tolerate the presence of a guest for remainder of weekend.

Saturday was occupied with Glebe markets and Broadway shopping centre, then went off to see "War of the Worlds" and had to smuggle several varieties of popcorn and crisps/chips into the cinema through clever distribution between pockets, handbag and an artfully draped cardigan and with every step I rustled suspiciously.

Saturday night, we sat through DVD's of Harry Potter movies which meant dreams consisting of Tom Cruise racing about with a lightening-shaped scar on his forehead.

Sunday night, after she'd gone home, I was too jaded to cook so poor Mr Beara came home to leftover pasta whilst I had a small portion of cold mashed potatoes as I watched Sherlock Holmes. Tonight, though, I am making a baked broccoli extragavanza involving non-dairy Bechamel sauce and avocado.

...next Sunday, Fingersmith!

... and, lo!, I am reading the new Harry Potter book.