Lani Says

Lani Says is food & music she loves, interviews with local artists and sharing stories of her life with the man she loves.

Month: August, 2011

lemon honey for my honey

I don’t think it’s any secret one of our favourite places to eat is Dizengoff. I wanted to make the bf a special brekky, and while I certainly can’t recreate the Dizengoff mushrooms, or sausage and eggs or chicken pasta or pretty much anything on their menu what I CAN do is make homemade lemon curd like they do. Or, as our family calls it, lemon honey. Check out my sister Talia’s tumblr for how to make it. It’s so, so easy.

American eggs are buzzy. I thought I’d messed them up cos they look super white compared to how scrambled eggs would come out at home. Turns out that’s just how they look. And they’re even less yellow if you don’t use organic eggs apparently.

The boyf says it’s just like the Dizengoff lemon curd, but tangier. And better. (I may have added the better bit).

I tried it with strawberries.  COOL STORY AY?


waiting and eating

Hurricanes sure do bring on the humidity. I think at this point we just want Irene to hurry up and pass so we can open all the windows again.  At least we’re well fed, the boyfriend cooked up his world famous Malay curry with roti, rice and salad. I made the rice and salad. Big effort there from me. Also realising we should have stocked up more on junk food, the IceBreakers Sours and Sour Patch Watermelon lollies are not going to last the night. I’ll say one thing for the storm, this is the quietest our block has ever been.

Best curry and dinner ever. I think I’ll keep him.

Best salad ever too. Avocado, fresh tomatoes, sun dried tomatoes, dried cranberries, carrots and lettuce with lemon juice drizzled over – makes it sound pretty flash right? I’ll break out the chips and dip once the hurricane actually hits.

up 2 Irene?


Just got back from a very busy supermarket stocking up on the basic essentials, water, tinned food, candles, matches etc. as we begin to wait for Hurricane Irene to hit. Judging by the weather right now you’d never guess a storm was on the way – the supermarket tells a different story though, with shelves empty that once held bread and water. But still, no one seems too worried here, more like a ‘better safe than sorry’ approach. According to this, West Harlem is at risk from flooding from a Category 3 Hurricane – and so far it’s sitting at a Category 2. It will be weird to see the city essentially shut down tomorrow from midday, with all public transport coming to a halt. Being confined indoors sounds fine right now though, I’m still battling the flu and sleep deprivation due to the humidity and jet lag. Yesterday I managed to get out for a wee bit in the Lower East Side and Broadway.

Peanut butter cookie, chocolate ice-cream sandwich.

Sushi and mints from Dean and Deluca, on my Felicity shit.


Tint Life

For those of you who may have missed it, or haven’t liked Lani Says on facebook (hint, hint) this is my first attempt at video editing – I’m pretty stoked on it:


I’ll try get a lil more flash with it the next time around 🙂 #TintLife #TintSquad, Better Living everyone.

feels like home

Harlem window, NZ coffee. I’ve just arrived into NYC after a lovely few days with my sister Pens in Anaheim and Huntington Beach in California. She has great friends who spoil her whenever she visits, which means I get the VIP treatment by association, yeyaa. We started out at The Holiday Inn where they fed us these amazing cinnamon french toast scrolls for breakfast.

We moved onto the Radisson the next day to hang out at Knotts Berry farm. I’m probably one of the most ‘scaredy-cat’ people I know. I’m totally freaked out by heights, even glass elevators make me nervous. I’m also a bit of a weirdo on roller coasters. I don’t scream. I just kind of laugh uncontrollably. Or hold my breath. Which is probably why I felt like I was gonna pass out after riding the Silver Bullet – a ride which is pretty tame for normal people. In spite of this, I somehow thought it would be a good idea to try out the new ride, WindSeeker, which lifts you 301 feet. It was not a good idea. It looked like a calm enough ride, and I didn’t hear anyone scream – but that’s probably because you can’t hear people screaming when they’re 300 feet high. I now know what it means to be literally ‘scared stiff’. I could not move, except to close my eyes from time to time LOL.

Next up was The Hilton on Huntington Beach. So beautiful to be in sun and sand again after kind of missing out on summer this year. Got taken out to dinner and totally spoilt on the rooftop of La Casa del Camino in Laguna Beach, which I was slightly geeked on being a fan of the reality show.

Laguna Beach 
Huntington Beach

Alright, time for another coffee and more wiping down of this apartment. Hello New York, you feel like home.

up2 LA?

Hey, so, I’m in LA. Just casually. Up to? Palm trees and sun and shit, cool ay?

Currently listening to Rihanna – ‘Cheers to the freakin weekend, I drink to that, yeyeah’… Always the VIP treatment when I roll with my sister Pens. I’ll drink to that!

Made sure I bought a dece supply of coffee with me this time.

All a girl needs in her travel kit. Probs gonna walk to downtown Disney to check out all the families in their matching Disneyland jumpers LOL. Talk soon. Lani xx


don’t tell me cos’ it hurts

Has a break-up ever come completely out of the blue, or is it more often that you feel it gradually building up? The excuses, arguments and tears more frequent. Patience becomes shorter, an unspoken distance that continues to widen. Until, of course, it is spoken. And then it’s done. You knew it was coming, but somehow you still can’t believe it. And while all the reasons are being laid out as to why you can’t be together anymore, you’re thinking, ‘Shut up, don’t speak’. Sometimes, you might even agree that it’s not right, but it’s not so much that the relationship is over, it’s everything that goes with it. Worse than the loss of romance, is the loss of friendship and worse than the loss of a friend, is losing a best-friend.

You and me
We used to be together
Everyday together always
I really feel
That I’m losing my best friend
I can’t believe
This could be the end
It looks as though you’re letting go
And if it’s real
Well I don’t want to know

P.S I still lust after Gwens dress in this vid.

Aunty Peg’s Marshmallow Balls

Aunty Peg always wore heels, always had more energy than anyone else in the room, always had a pot of soup ready, the kettle boiling and large containers full of baking laid out whenever we’d visit. And always, included in that baking, were her famous marshmallow balls. So synonymous were they with her, the family dubbed them ‘Aunty Peg’s Marshmallow Balls’.

Take two packets of Vanilla Wines, and crush em up as much as you can – or do like me and take a big knife to them. Then melt the rest of the ingredients, about 200 g of butter, a tin of condensed milk, a cup of brown sugar and cocoa powder to your desired taste. Add the crushed biscuits. It looks a bit like mince, but don’t let that put you off. Wet your hands and place the mixture around each marshmallow, roll in coconut. You’ll find as the mixture starts to cool you’ll need to use more water.

Let them chill in the fridge for a bit. Then brew yourself up a Milo, and enjoy.

RIP Aunty Peg.

f**k a scorecard, Tua all day

When Tua knocked Barrett down in the 12th it was sheer elation; the entire stadium standing, jumping, screaming, chanting. I would have liked to have snapped Barrett on the canvas but I was too busy fist pumping with joy, and continuing to amuse the two young dudes sitting in front who laughed at me every time I yelled something. Apparently it was not a surprise to those watching at home when Tua was not named the victor, but the majority in the stadium felt he had done enough. Tua all day.

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Lover, you should have come over

A few years ago I moved to Wellington. I knew no one, and, I was a scrub. I’d worked in retail for a year on $11 an hour after finishing uni. I hated it, hated my life and most of the people I came in contact with. I needed to be happy with myself again. So when I was offered the opportunity to begin a career as a journalist, even if it did mean leaving Auckland and friends, family and the boyfriend for a year, I was up for it. In fact, I needed it.

But like I said, I was a scrub. I didn’t own anything, not even my own bed. Worse than that, I didn’t own a computer. It wasn’t until I no longer had one at my fingertips that I realised just how much of my communication with friends revolved around computers. Still, I’ll take loneliness and boredom over a lack of self worth any day. I preferred a city of strangers over familiarity as long as I could feel like I was doing something with my life.

I actually really enjoyed Wellington, but it was still tough. I mourned the death of one of my closest friends, and some other things went on that year which would catch up with me later. But there were a few things that brightened my days. Most importantly my flatmates, the Aro Street crew. At first friends of a friend, they became my friends, and really good ones at that. There was Fidels. The flat tradition of a late-afternoon hung-over brunch, hash browns, eggs, tomatoes and lots of coffee. And Jeff Buckley. Manaaki lent me his Grace album to play on one of the few things I did own – a shitty hand me down stereo, which required heavy books placed on top of the CD lid to keep it closed. I soon bought my own copy. Long story short, some of the best breakup songs ever written found their way into my life exactly when I needed them.

This is our last goodbye
I hate to feel the love between us die.
But it’s over
Just hear this and then I’ll go:
You gave me more to live for,
More than you’ll ever know.

Too young to hold on
And too old to just break free and run

Sometimes a man gets carried away,
When he feels like he should be having his fun
Much too blind to see the damage he’s done
Sometimes a man must awake to find that, really,
He has no-one…