Here's a pavlova just the way I like it. Home made. Crisp - even hard - shell, that rings when you bang your spoon against it! Under the crust, are pockets of air, a bit of squishy delicate fluff, and the merest touch of sugary stickiness. Perfection. Just like mother used to make, and unless you make your own, it's a very rare example of the genre these days in this era of the mass-produced cowardly marshmallow pav you can buy in the supermarket.
This one is to be had at Tony's Wellesley Street Restaurant in Auckland. I had it after the carpetbagger steak (stuffed with oysters). It's no wonder I'm losing the battle with my waistband!
I like the fact that the cream is served only on one side, and so can be scraped off easily. I don't care for whipped cream as it gives me a headache.
"The Original Tony's" claims to be Auckland's oldest surviving restaurant and it certainly has been there for as long as I can remember. It's great to get a table by the window and watch the world go by. And the world does indeed go by - just off Queen Street, it's one of those places in the world when eventually you will happen upon almost anybody you can think of...
According to the famous mathematical thought experiment, Schroedinger's cat is neither dead nor alive. So it's a cool concept if you don't like being locked into binaries. Not so good if you don't like being locked into a lethal booby-trapped box. And from the cat's point of view, there is no ambiguity at all.