If you're anything like me, the next day after a reasonably decent sized drinking sesh involves three things: 

1. Hours lying in bed awake after only 4 hours of shut-eye attempting to go back sleep.

2. Arm stretched out, awkwardly fumbling for that cup/bottle/jug of water you took to bed with you the night before (or just a few hours ago).

3. Trying to figure out exactly what food it is that your body is craving.

For me, item number 3 is by far the most pressing issue on the day after the night before.

I can spend hours lying in bed, debating in my head about what I'm want to eat (regardless of whether I got the Taxi driver to make quick detour via Maccas enroute to my home at 3am).

 But the puzzling phenomenon is - nothing, and I mean nothing - seems to leave me satisfied.

I've tried the healthy route, with  banana, peanut butter and honey on a thick slab of crunchy, grainy toast. Super tasty, but to no avail.

 The alternative is to take the greasy path.

 My housemates love a bit of yum cha, which again is delicious, but does mean someone has to drive somewhere. Which also means you have to get out of your pyjamas. And, unless things have changed since the last time I went 12 months ago, there is no drive thru at yum cha, which also means that once you get there, you have to sit down and eat. Plus, you have to get there by 11, or else all that will be left is a couple of soggy pork buns and a plate of cold, deep-fried chicken feet (which is completely unappetizing at the best of times).

A big old fry-up, with bacon, eggs, mushrooms and decent sized squirt of barbecue sauce is the breakfast choice of many. However, it can feel a little heavy in the gut, and I usually immediately regret it. Not so much because of the large amount of calories I've just ingested, but because I now spend the next couple of hours thinking about what else I can eat (on top of having already consumed such a large amount of calories).

And it doesn't matter whether or not I've achieved a feeling of fullness; it's about achieving a feeling of satisfaction. The search for food that satisfies after a big night seems to be a perennial pursuit.

In my early 20s, hangovers rarely seemed to affect me. I'd get up in the morning feeling pretty much fresh as a daisy,  and head outside for a 10k run. And I'm not even joking.

I'd bound down Latrobe Terrace, wind in my hair, smile on my face, thinking about digging into a big bowl of lightly steamed leafy green veg when I got home. (Disclaimer. I do still love my green veg - I just down yearn for it after a big night out).

I haven't re-tested this routine in the last few years, but in these last few years, the hangover seems to be hanging over at my place a lot more.

So, what I want to know is, what's your hangover food of choice? Do you have a never-fail go to meal that works a treat? Go on, help a girl out!

Mmmmm.....breakfast at Ruby Cafe, Paddington.

The other day a friend asked me where my favourite place to eat out in Brissy is. “Come on Sarah, you’re a big foodie and a food writer… you must have a few top suggestions,” the said friend exclaimed.
But the truth is I probably found that harder to answer then an algebra question (and that’s saying something). Because just like the age-old problem “how long is a piece of string”. It all depends on what you want it for, how big your wallet is and where you want it to come from.
And this got me thinking…
What defines a good restaurant?
I ended up suggesting about 10 different places to my hungry mate (all different cuisines, atmospheres, locations and budgets) and in the end (on my recommendation) she hit up a popular, trendy inner-city eatery that boasts a hot menu, smokin’ view of the city and groovy atmosphere. The only problem was it was a dinner date with her parents and when the “night club” tunes fired up at 9pm (they were still working through their mains) their experience was shattered – along with their ear drums.
So just like beauty, it seems a good restaurant really is in the eye (wallet and tastebuds) of the beholder.
In fact just the other week a girlfriend suggested I try this “deliciously authentic” Italian restaurant in Newfarm that was not only cheap, but just fabulous, no bells and whistles, homely food.
Before you could say “bon appetite” I was dressed in my favourite eating outfit (an oversized maternity dress) and making like a bat out of hell to this local gem.
Two very unexciting courses later and I was ready to clip my girlfriend behind the ears for suggesting a restaurant that was more “nasty” then “cheap” and had more grease than a car garage. To me, it was the kind of pasta and pizza I could whip up at home for $2 (and my heritage is Irish) with about as much authenticity (I couldn’t spot an Italian for a mile) as my “Dior” sunglasses from Bali.
But there you have it. My boyfriend and I weren’t impressed where hundreds have been.
So here are five things that seal the deal for me:
1.    A price that justifies the food.
2.    A good atmosphere with attentive yet not overwhelming staff.
3.    A creative menu that offers different choices for different diets and taste buds.
4.    A point of difference, whether it be personable staff (yep this really can be a point of difference) or even just complimentary choccies at the end of the meal).
5.    A good/well priced wine list.

And here are a few of my fav places and why:
1.    Sono, Portside. These guys have nailed atmosphere, authenticity and service and transformed it into an art form. I love that you can hide away (for a bit of privacy) in a shut off room or get among it at the teppanyaki bar. It’s not cheap but if you love Japanese and you’re willing to splurge a little then it’s top notch.
2.    JamJar, West End. Sure it has only just opened – but I love what these guys have done with this retro and ultimately laid-back fine dining spot. It’s top gourmet food, at reasonable prices with a very casual atmosphere that’s perfect for a Friday night drink or a three-course feast.
3.    Sawadee Ka, West End. I love this Thai restaurant not just because it’s one of the first places I went on a date with my partner – but because it’s decent Thai, at decent prices with absolutely adorable staff. You always feel welcome, the atmosphere is great and you won’t have a hole burnt into your pocket.
4.    FaB Fish and Burger Grill, Barracks, Paddington. Yep a burger joint is in my fave places to go. I dig it because it’s cheap, tasty and gourmet, with chirpy-as staff, a nice vibe and a hilarious menu. I always seem to navigate here when I want a quick burger fix, an easy dinner or just a chilled dinner out.
5.    Brents – The Fine Dining Experience, Toowong. When money’s no object, and when you want a slice of hands-down sumptuous French food, I find it tough to go past Brent’s. Everything about this spot oozes elegance and perfection and it’s got to be one of the most romantic destinations (if you and your partner love food). Exquisite dishes, great atmosphere and a wine list to die for!
 

While out at a birthday dinner a few months ago I sampled the most amazing chocolate mud cake to ever pass these lips. This seriously rich slice of heaven was flourless, as dense as the Amazon and so delicious the entire party was left speechless (probably because they were too busy stuffing themselves or just drunk). The birthday boy was forgotten and we were still talking about this divine party intervention weeks later - myself more than anyone.
In fact I became obsessed with replicating this cake. With the help of a taste tester (one very stoked boyfriend) I baked cake after cake and became dangerously close to losing the aforementioned taster (who had become less enthusiastic after jumping on the scales) when finally I cracked it.
And here it is, for your own pleasure (so fondly dubbed by my taste tester)...

Death By Sarah

Ingredients:
200g of dark chocolate (roughly chopped)
200g of milk chocolate (roughly chopped)
2 tbs of flour
3 eggs (whipped like you've never whipped them before)
220g of butter (roughly chopped)
Quarter cup of sweetened condensed milk (I like the tubes but if you have no self control I'd advise the cans).
3/4 cup of caster sugar
1 tsp of vanilla essence (don't skimp on the crap stuff here)
1 cup of desiccated coconut (cheap is fine)
1/2 tsp of baking powder (I'm not actually sure if this does anything but most cakes seem to have it so I always added it in mine)

Method
Generously butter up a 20 or 25cm round cake tin and pre-heat your oven to about 150 degrees.
Place about a cup or so of water in a saucepan and put over very low heat (unless you've got a crap oven, in which case place over medium heat). Place a similar-sized saucepan on top (or if you have a stainless steel bowl that works perfectly too) and pop it on top of the other saucepan. Make sure it's sitting nice and snug on top before you place your roughly chopped chocolate and butter in. Start stirring immediately! Seriously, you'll burn the crap out of your chocolate if you don't and it will get all flaky and lumpy. The aim is to get a lovely fondue texture and if you place the chocolate and butter in at the same time and consistently stir (until it's all melted... obviously) the ingredients will all mesh in well together. Add in the sugar as well until it's all dissolved in the chocolate mix and then remove from the heat. In a bowl (obviously) put in some elbow grease and whisk those eggs. Add in the vanilla essence, flour and baking powder and stir so that they are all perfectly blended. If you have a blender (I can't afford one) use that. Add in the desiccated coconut and combine before slowly and carefully adding in your chocolate mix. Once that's all nice and combined and you've finished dunking your finger in or swatting off the fingers of onlookers, pop it in the cake tin and whack it in oven. The trick to not ending up with a burnt piece of rubbish is to cook it super slow! If you have a gas oven I'd leave it on about 150 degrees and if you have an electric you need to buy a gas oven because seriously, they're useless!
Cook for about 50 minutes and then reduce to about 100 degrees for another 10 minutes.

Tips:
First and foremost I would recommend using the best quality chocolate you can afford. What works well together is Lindt 70 percent dark chocolate with a good quality milk block such as Whittakers. It's also worth using good quality butter (such as French or Dutch) if you can fork out the cash. Next make this cake a couple of days before you want to eat it. Like a good cheese, a rich cake only gets better with age (within reason though people).
And lastly make a super tasty ganache for the icing. Ganache is a piece of cake (pardon the pun). Just add 100 grams of dark chocolate and 100 grams of milk chocolate (chopped) into a saucepan over exceptionally low heat. Combine straight away with a cup of cream and stir constantly until it is perfectly mixed. Pop it in the freezer for a couple of hours until it's nice and thick and then smear it over your cake.

Tried it? Then let me know what you think in the comments below...happy eating!

As Style’s resident food writer, I get to not only hear a hell of a lot about Brissy’s restaurant industry, but I get to sample some of the hottest, newest and biggest foodie trends popping up throughout the city. As you can imagine, I’ve sampled my fair share of delicacies, eaten my way through my fair share of decadent courses and consequently managed to draw up my own opinion of what makes for a good restaurant and what makes for a, well, not so good one. And funnily enough, for me, it always seems to come back to a few factors that make up the bottom line of what’s hot in my book: customer service, atmosphere and of course food to make your mouth water.
This might sound pretty obvious, but far too often I have dined at restaurants only to find they fell flat on the first two points. They may have served up a seriously sumptuous meal, but truth be told it was soured by the stuffy atmosphere and average service. It seems on the quest to serving up top dishes, restaurateurs forgot some crucial ingredients.
During a recent breakfast out at one of Paddington’s popular cafes I was forced to wait an hour for my meal and when the dish finally came it was plonked down on my table without a word from the waitress. No apologies, no update during the wait… nothing. Sure the food was great, but no one wants to feel like they don’t matter to the staff – and at the end of the day a smile from the waitress, some reassurance and that little x-factor known as customer service tastes better than anything on the menu (I’m the kind of person that will frequent a coffee shop because the staff are so pleasant even if the coffee is average).
Then there are the high-end restaurants that serve up a huge slice of pomp with their mains. In fact not too long ago I sat down with my partner for a lengthy dinner sitting in a prestigious Brissy restaurant only to feel like sudden movements or conversations louder than a whisper would earn me instant eviction from my table. And this made me wonder… have we got eating out wrong?
Sure I loved the food at this particular spot, but I was so paranoid about clinking my cutlery too loud on the plate that I’m surprised I didn’t end up with heartburn from the stress. In fact it wasn’t until a French couple sidled into the table next to us and began smacking their lips and making loud exclamations over the food that some of the tension lifted.
And what a difference those atmospheric changes make!
It was something I truly realised while I was recently eating out at new Brissy restaurant Tank (owned by Ready Steady Cook’s Alistair McLeod) where the food was not only out of this world, but the service and atmosphere were unreal. Alistair himself popped over for 20 minutes or so to rattle off some Irish jokes and nothing was too hard for the pleasant staff. I felt at ease, relaxed and happy with the whole picture and I was only too happy to rave on to anyone who would listen about how fab this hot spot was.
And at the end of the day with a personality and ambience like that, the crew could have got away with serving us Maccas and we were all made to feel like valued customers.

 

A few Friday afternoons ago I was invited to spend the remainder of my work day sampling beer at a small micro-brewery at Spring Hill’s International Hotel. It took me about two-milliseconds to say yes (it was a hot day and it had been a busy week). And I happily tramped down to the Boundary Street gem thinking the highlight of my afternoon would just be a cold brew and a few snacks.
But that was just the beginning. After having the promised brew placed in my hands (it was dark, rich, a tad potent and super satisfying) the hotel’s master brewer Rudi Herget revealed just what this small treasure trove had to offer. With a handful of their own speciality brews on tap (the Noble Pilsener, Irish Red, Indian Chief and Belgian Gold) they’ve managed to turn a drink at the pub into something far more exciting. And while I’m more-often-than-not likely to cradle a glass of wine over a stubby, I may have let out a small squeal when their seasonal summer ale slid down my throat. Add that to the array of gourmet canapés that were whipped up to accommodate the brews, and you’ve got an inner-city hotspot with something for everyone (particularly beer lovers).
Yep the International Hotel and their ever-growing micro-brewery is not only a real treat to lap up but one to keep your eyes on as Rudi continues to takes his expertise to the next level.

www.internationalhotel.com.au 

When you love to indulge in a nice glass of vino and some sexy cheese on the side (and let's face it who doesn't?) there's no greater place than Brissy's Good Food and Wine Show. I've been known to knock back my fair share of crisp sav blancs in the past (purely for tasting purposes of course) and so when I lined up for this year's show - alongside thousands of other foodies - I felt like a kid at Christmas. There were a million and one stalls boasting flavours from across the country and if the sensation of a new season chardonnay sliding down your throat wasn't good enough, the entire atmosphere was. Everyone was there for a good time and everyone was just relishing in the top produce Australian farmers reap. And that got me thinking...We really do have some of the best and freshest food on offer in the world. Sure I might be biased - but when you look at some of the seriously sumptuous cheeses that come from Tassie, the mouth-watering fruits that come from our own backyard here in Queensland, and the top quality meats produced right around the country, it really doesn't get much better. And if the seriously large amount of wine consumed at the show is anything to go by, we have some competitive drops on offer too.
And if you combine the whole thing with some of our top notch chefs (think Brissy's own Matt Moran who was at the Good Food and Wine Show) it serves up a pretty picture. I guess that's why over 30,000 revelers graced the annual event this year and why Aussie produce really is starting to get a name for itself.

What food or drink do you think Australia does best?

If there’s one thing Aussies seem to stuff up when it comes to the kitchen table, it’s our love of big meals and copious ingredients. If we’re making a burger, we’ll pile it sky-high with egg, pineapple, bacon and a meat patty (if there’s room we’ll squeeze on some lettuce and tomato). And if we’re making a pizza we don’t stop at a couple of ingredients – instead we go all out with our favourite flavours, winding up with something that resembles a pizza lasagne. We also like to have our meals in one big whopping go, and so we tend to feel a bit ripped off if it isn’t generously proportioned.
Yep it’s tough but true, and I particularly uncovered this harsh truth about myself when I recently took part in a pizza-making night at Brisbane’s newish Italian eatery Vapianos. These guys are all about less is more (in true Italian style) and after learning some tricks of the trade, such as how to roll and spin the dough, I was taught the fine art of choosing the appropriate ingredients.
Truth be told, I was warned against loading up my pizza, but with so many delicious-looking toppings in front of me my inner Aussie couldn’t resist and within minutes my pizza looked like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. It was placed in the stone pizza oven and only minutes later it was sitting in front me, cooked to perfection. Still quietly confident that my loaded-up pizza was going to taste awesome – I happily sat down with the other students to share my creation. But just one bite in and the truth came crashing down. My pizza was a failure. It had turned soggy and was surprisingly flavourless. Luckily for me my neighbour had enough sense to stick to just pesto and cheese (it was phenomenal) and I managed to get a slice of how real pizza should taste.
If you ask the guys and gals at Vapiano, making pizza really is a fine art. And the owner himself, Will Cooke, says just one or two quality fresh ingredients, cooked to perfection is what real Italian food is all about.
To get your own taste of some seriously drool-worthy Italian food check out Vapiano in Brisbane City - just make sure you don’t get too carried away with all the tempting ingredients on offer).

Vapiano
Albert Lne, Queen St Mall, Brisbane
P 3221 4933 www.vapiano.com.au

Shrieks could be heard from the Style editorial office when news broke that Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream had hit our sunny shores.

For years now, I've listened to friends and family rave about this iconic American ice-cream brand, and now I've had the opportunity to try it, I know what all the fuss is about. It's good – really good. And I may or may not have just polished off the last of the Ben & Jerry's Cookie Dough in the Style freezer (hello, eight months' pregnant... resistance is futile). Sorry guys.

With the arrival of Ben & Jerry's being the talk of the town, it's become apparent that ice-cream is a highly contentious subject. After taste-testing Phish Food, two Stylers controversially denounced the brand (we didn't argue with them because we wanted to eat their share).

My husband has also flat-out refused to try it, claiming there is no ice-cream brand that can compete with the mighty Home Ice-Cream ("It's made in Toowoomba!"). He's obviously biased though, seeing as his first job was as a Home Ice-Cream delivery boy. His uniform comprised a Home Ice-Cream shirt with matching short-shorts, and the old ladies in Mackay used to stop him just so they could pinch him on the bum as he climbed into the refrigerated van to retrieve their order. So clearly there's some fond memories affecting his judgement.

Haters to the left, I say. The proof is in the pudding, and as far as this ice-cream addict's concerned, Ben & Jerry's is the bomb.

What's your favourite ice-cream brand? Tell me in the comments below.

Despite being a lover of fine food, I'm partial to the odd dose of junk food, and my number one weakness (besides cheeseburgers) would have to be the dagwood dog. 

No one else seems to share my enthusiasm for them, though. Fine – I know the concept of a battered sausage on a stick is disgusting, and it's possible the appeal lies in the fact that I only get to eat them once a year when the Ekka rolls into town (a good thing for my waistline and my arteries).

When selecting a dagwood dog, it's important to observe these rules:

1. Don't buy the first one you see. There's a big difference between a bad dagwood dog and a good dagwood dog. You want one with plenty of batter, and make sure you instruct the vendor not to skimp on the tomato sauce. 

2. I like to match my dagwood dog with a can of Pasito. No other soft drink will do. Water? Forget it! You need something to cut through the copious amounts of grease.

3. Don't be tempted by accompaniments such as hot chips. This will undoubtedly prompt your internal organs to complain.

4. Avoid sideshow alley rides for at least 45 minutes after ingesting your dagwood dog. Specifically the Gravitron.

I've also put together a rookie's guide of food to avoid at the Ekka:

Buttered corn cob: What the hell is this? Vegetables on a stick? No no no. A travesty to carnival food. Grab your corn, your vitamin water and your Diabetic Living showbag and take a hike, pal.

Fairy floss in a bucket: Most often seen on the arm of anorexic-looking adolescent girls. It may be fat-free, sweetheart, but your pancreas has just packed its bags and purchased a one-way ticket to Del Boca Vista, Florida.

Pizza: Four words – "at your own risk".

Cream-filled "waffles": Yeah, I don't know who came up with this concept but they need to be shot. According to my North Queenslander husband, these were all the rage at the Mackay Show when he was a kid. Whatever. This is the big smoke, and we've no room for your small-town pseudo treats. Wanna see what a real Ekka dessert looks like? It's called a strawberry ice-cream.

What's your favourite Ekka treat, and what carnival food wouldn't you touch with a ten-foot pole?

Style ed Cassie and I were just talking about how certain foods can transport you straight back to your childhood. Namely, her brother’s obsession with Poppy custard powder mix, which he laps up by the bowlful.

I have a similar affinity with Sizzler cheese toast and Kraft instant Mac ‘N Cheese. Gourmet? Hardly. Nutritionally sound? Err, no. Undeniably tasty in the way only the junkiest of junk foods can be? You better believe it.

I went to Sizzler for the first time in about 10 years the other evening. Not my choice, but the second the cheese toast was delivered to the table, I fell into what can only be described as a cheese toast trance. I don’t know what they put in that stuff, but it can’t be legal. I inhaled three pieces before I remembered the potato skins and hastily headed for the salad bar. I may also have drunk post-mix creaming soda. Thanks for the memories, Sizzler – see you again in 2020.

Which foods take you back to your childhood?  
 

I've been baking up a storm this weekend and thought I'd share with you an old favourite of mine – choc apricot and oat slice. Better than any store-bought muesli bar and a lot more satisfying. Enjoy!

Makes approximately 20 pieces

Ingredients
1/2 cup self-raising flour
1/2 cup plain flour
1 cup rolled oats
2/3 cup desiccated coconut
2/3 cup brown sugar, firmly packed
2/3 cup dried apricots, chopped
3/4 cup choc bits or chopped chocolate
125g butter, melted, cooled
1 egg, lightly whisked
Extra butter for greasing pan

Method
Preheat oven to 180°C. Brush a 17 x 27cm slice tray with melted butter to lightly grease. Line the tray with baking paper, including the sides.Sift the flours into a bowl, then add the oats, coconut, sugar, apricot and choc bits, and stir to combine. Make a well in the dry ingredients and add the melted butter and egg (make sure the melted butter is not too hot, otherwise it will start to set the egg). Use a wooden spoon, then your hands to combine. Spoon mixture into prepared pan and press it down until it is evenly distributed. Bake for 20 minutes or until golden (set on middle oven rack for best results). Remove from oven and allow to cool completely. Cut into squares to serve. Store in an airtight container for up to a week.

As you may or may not have noticed in July's imprint (that little panel at the front of the mag that lists the Style staffers), I'm notorious for my catchcry "What's for lunch?"

Yep, I'm always on the lookout for new lunch spots, and last week I found two beauties. Firstly, Style ed Cassie and I met up with a friend for lunch at Vapiano in the City, which I've been hearing a lot about. And for good reason, it seems. Where do you go when you don't want to go food court slumming but you don't have the time or funds for a restaurant meal? Well, judging by the hordes of city workers lining up at its counters, Vapiano is the hot ticket. 

The food's fresh and tasty. We shared two salads (Insalata Caprese, $11, and Insalata Di Rucola Con Parmigiano, $9, with prawns, $3.50), a pizza (Rucola, $13) and a pasta (Pappardelle Carbonara, $15). The desserts on display looked divine (tiramisu, naturally, among others) but we'd already overdone it so that will definitely be on the agenda for our next visit. 

What I like best is the swipe card system – you're given a card which records all your purchases, so you can enjoy your lunch with friends without having to whip out iPhones to calculate who's paying for what at the end.

Yesterday I rounded up a group of friends to join me for "Yummy Cha" at Siana Valley, which is held every Saturday and Sunday from 12pm to 3pm. The food was out-of-this-world good and so much cheaper than normal. For example, the peking duck wraps (heaven on a plate) will normally set you back $19 for a plate of four, but during Yummy Cha you can order a plate of three for $10. We feasted on those as well as barbecue pork buns ($9 for 3), seafood balls ($9 for 3), pork belly ($12 for five pieces) and crispy chicken spring rolls ($6 for six pieces).

We wisely left room for dessert though – coconut fried ice-cream, $6. One word? SUBLIME. Think homemade ice-cream coated in crispy crumbs and coconut flakes, drizzled in honey and toasty flaked almonds. "A life-changing experience" was the consensus. I'm making Yummy Cha at Siana Valley a Sunday lunch tradition, starting from now. See you there.

By Nadia Correnti, food writer

Men are from Mars and women are from Venus, and that doesn’t just apply to relationship foibles. I’ve noticed lately that we also have very different attitudes when it comes to dining out.

Take complaining, for example. If something’s not right with my meal, I don’t see why I shouldn’t speak up and have the problem sorted. My husband, on the other hand, would prefer to suffer in silence, eating steak so overcooked you could play air hockey with it, or chicken so underdone you’d swear it was themed for Think Pink month.

We were eating out with another couple recently and when our meals arrived, mine was so oversalted I could barely eat it. Considering we’d waited a good 40 minutes for our meal to arrive, I was starving, and rather peeved that the only edible part of my meal was the garnish. “You’re not going to cause a scene, are you?” my husband asked, looking slightly panicked, as if I might leap out of my chair and hurl the plate across the restaurant in a fit of rage. (Which, for the record, I’ve never done.)

Then there was the time we were having breakfast at our favourite café, and I was given a water glass with a lipstick stain on it. When I politely asked for a replacement, he shook his head at me with a look that said “troublemaker”. “So you’d drink from a dirty glass?” I challenged him. “Just drink from the other side!” he said, rolling his eyes.

My friend Fiona has the same issue with her fiancé. He hates it when she complains about her food not being right, or not arriving in a timely manner, and can’t understand why it’s that big a deal. Well, why is speaking up such a big deal?

As long as you speak to staff politely and your request is legitimate and reasonable, I don’t see the problem. It is a problem if you sit there, eat your entire meal, then claim it’s unsatisfactory and demand a reduction on the bill. Or badmouth the restaurant to anyone who’ll listen when you didn’t even give them a chance to fix things.

Do you complain? If so, what for? Do you also give praise when praise is due?