On Saturday night I celebrated my 21st birthday …
But, in true Rachie style, I decided to boycott convention.
There was no alcohol. It was a dry-zone. Instead of booze we sipped on coconut water kefir, sparkling grape and apple concoctions, and juice diluted with sparkling water. No one died! Astonishing, so it is possible to celebrate without assaulting the liver! Who knew?
We dressed up down in active wear. That’s right sweet spuds. No heels, figure-hugging gowns or tight pants! There were stretchy leggings, puffy jackets, sweat pants and sneakers. I even spied Ugg boots (pictured below).
I gotta say, there’s something incredibly refreshing about going to the gym the morning of your party and not getting changed to greet your guests. Keep your panties on! My sweat doesn’t smell, okay!
We noshed on a 100% whole foods (apart from the store-bought gluten free bread – as per Mamma T’s fervent request) menu.
- Grass-fed, free-range sausages* with organic ancient grain sourdough (or gluten free bread), real butter and organic tomato sauce
- Platters of roast free range chooks* and grass-fed, free-range lamb* with either;
- A baby spinach, cherry tom, mushie, red onion and avo salad with homemade apple cider vinaigrette, or …
- A carrot quinoa salad with homemade spiced orange dressing
- A homemade vegan coconut veggie curry with either Jasmine rice or resistant starch rice (rice cooked and cooled down for 24 hours – better for digestive health)
*Though I am plant based, the majority of my friends and family are not. I was already going out on a limb by declaring a dry zone. My stepdad was already spewing about that. He might’ve had a stroke had I insisted that we keep slaughtered animals off the menu too. If you think I’m overreacting you haven’t met my stepdad. So, my fellow plant-based potatoes, please refrain from judgement, and instead appreciate the fact that I used the night to showcase both plant-based and sustainable, organic omnivorism. Outcome? Many a meat eater raved about the 100% plant-based curry and salads, despite there being meat on offer. Slow and steady, eh?
And of course, there was cake + vegan sweet spud brownies for my plant-based amigos and I to enjoy. Whoever said that animal abstinence was devoid of indulgent desserts has obviously never attended one of my parties!
There were my classic chocolate chip muffins, double chocolate chip cupcakes and queen cakes (vanilla butter batter with sultanas). Oh, and good news for plant-based cupcake lovers. I have tweaked my usual cupcake recipe (which contains eggs and the option of using butter) for an 100% animal-free version. It will be published in my book when I get around to finishing it.
The brownies were based on this epic recipe, but with a few tweaks made to suit the ingredients I had on hand. They were insanely delicious. As in orgasmic! As in, tingles everywhere! You can’t really go wrong with chocolate, nut butter and sweet spud.
The highlight of the night (in my bias eyes anyways) were the speeches, courtesy of Papa Bear, Mamma T and 5 close friends; Bianca, Zoe, Nicole, Daina and Sara.
Dad’s was charming, and clearly (as shown in the snap above) a wee bit cringe-worthy!
Bianca’s touched on endearing middle-school memories, like our ability to laugh at just about anything once we got into a “laughing mood”. In particular we found the word Potassium flippin’ hilarious. Neither of us can recall the rationale (or lack thereof) of our 12-year-old brains, but my blame is on the funky ingredients in the sweet liquid breakfast drinks (I think we can guess which brand – it rhymes with Pup Sand Low) we were sipping at the time.
My pal Zoe had me grinning from ear to ear. She summed up our friendship perfectly; instant besties, boardgames in the library every lunchtime (we were THAT cool), co-napping and our short-lived career as amateur Photo Booth models.
Nicole’s speech was bloody gorgeous. I was glad to learn that the only time she gets uni work done is after our beach walks, and that despite her hatred for early morning starts (how she survived 13 years of school is beyond me), I proved to be her little caffeine shot, skipping into home-room and coaxing her off the desk(s) she was using as a make-shift nap-station.
Daina (in cute plaits above) did an incredible job, informing everyone of my uncanny resemblance to Charlie the Unicorn (a youtube series that we adored as simple-minded twelvies) and thanking me for my comforting reassurance when we complain about our dry love lives. Yes lovely girl, if all else failed (not that it’s looking that way for you now) I totally would date you #girlcrush
Then Sara (see hug, above) brought the house down with some of our finest moments. The story of the night was our infamous “touch wood” story. It was in year 12 during a Psychology class. We were chatting about something – goodness knows what, and I must’ve said something that required me to touch wood for energetic insurance. I reached behind myself to tap a wooden desk at the same time a male classmate walked behind my chair.
A near miss had me mere mili-seconds away from slapping the poor (or not so poor – depending upon which way you stack it) chap in the cock-a-doodle doo. Before our laughter inevidably erupted, the comedic Gods worked a miracle on my voice box, and I managed to declare; “whoops, wrong wood”. Thanks for bringing this up lovely girl. In my 21 years, this is still the most intimate experience I’ve shared with the opposite sex, and is consequently also my first original comedic remark – rather than a line sourced from my memory bank of movie, TV or advertisement classics.
Mum’s was an absolute cracker. The perfect blend of childhood memories, deliciously inappropriate moments, our love for drama and song (only when we can use them to show of our hilariousness of course … vagina song from episode 7 anyone?) and making it known that when she’s not worrying about what will come out of my mouth next, she loves and is proud of me (insert many “Awes” here)
The party was everything I had wanted it to be. Warm, Chillaxed, Comfy, Nourishing, Hydrating, Delicious and Hilarious. The best bloody night of my life (so far). Any party that sees your best mates retreating inside and setting up camp on your living room floor is bound to be a ripper!
My step dad was totally paranoid that the party would flop. That no one would like the healthy food, sober beverages or complete lack of formality. I appreciate where his fear came from. It may just be the most unusual 21st in the history of ageing, but here’s the thing. I think we all secretly long for events where we don’t have to make an effort. Where we are comfortable and warm. Where we feel amazing the next morning and sober enough to recall happy memories of laughter, silliness and smiles.
Finally, the biggest thank you to the Glorious human below for capturing so many moments on film while I was running around having myself a cracker of a time.
Not only does she have the most enviable mane, she’s got the biggest heart and a keen eye for beauty. She even managed this model-shot of my sassiest party guest …
And collect photographic evidence that Tabby is likely related to Garfield (needless to say all leftover platters were donated to our three fluffy felines).
