Flowers? . . . For me?!!

Just to show how much I love Daffodils, I wanted to share the piccies of my flowers. Caroline bought me a lovely bunch on Friday night which just look wonderful in my kitchen. Steve bought me much daintier ones, but sooooooo pretty. Daffs are such happy flowers, they radiate sunshine and smiles. And they are cheap!! I challenge anyone not to see the beauty in these simple flowers. Such a simple pleasure in life that brings so much joy!

Love and Obsessions

Happy Valentines to one and all!

I know, I know, I know, it's a commerical crock of a day. Its an excuse for card companies to make millions following the post christmas lull. Its a reason for single people to be angry - I was one of those people for far too long.

Growing up, I didn't have boyfriends, not really. There were people I fancied and obsessed about as a teenager - those boys know precisely who they are, subtlety was not my forte! I apologise for my slight stalkerish tendancies! I remember getting a few cards, one year I got a huge bunch of flowers from a strange, penfold-like man who I had met for an hour, two weeks previous - weird. Essentially, Valentines was something that kinda passed me by, apart from those two occaisions in my pre-twenteens.

The first Valentines day I had with a boyfriend was tainted by arguements as I couldn't understand why he would rather go to a 'traffic lights' social at univeristy rather than spend the night with me, his girlfriend. I soon found out as three days later he broke up with me! Apparently wanting to spend time with him was just out of order - I was such a bitch!! Im sure one day I will be cruel enough to publish the 'toothpaste day' about this boy as his cumuppance, but tonight I am in a good mood, I have eaten lots of food!!

So anyway, I am basically still a thirteen year old girl when it comes to Valentine's day, I like to give cheesy cards and I like to get them. I also use it as an excuse to cook!! Valentine's day becomes less about me declaring my love to those around me, but declaring my undying devotion to the one thing that will never leave me; food! I also like to spoil Steve, who did very well this year! Steve 'disagrees' with cards, I have never been given a card for any occaision from Steve. This year in fact was the first year I had christmas presents wrapped in wrapping paper, not random plastic bags he found under the sink! So when I was not only presented with a single red rose, TWO bunches of daffodills (my absolute favourite flowers), a smile and a pink envelope, I was completely over the moon!! Ok, he had already told me that the card was from Card Factory and cost him 30p, ok the envelope blatantly belonged to another card which had obviously been abandonned on another rack, but he had actually bought me a card! I really was happier than when he bought me my silver necklace last year!

But my spoiling today was wonderful! I spoilt myself rotten, and my boy! I like feeding him my creations and seeing his reactions. Tonight I produced a three course dinner, setting the coffee table in a silver service style fashion (one day I will have a dining table - I can dream), and chilling a Jacobs Creek pink bubbly, to really mark the occasision!

Starters - very simple prawn cocktail with homemade marie-rose: Equal parts double craem and mayonnaise (good full fat mayonnaise, only Helmans will do), a squeeze or two of lemon juice and a good squirt of heinz tomato ketchup!

Mains (and I was very proud of this) - Pan fried Duck with pomegranate sauce and celeriac mash. I had never eaten celeriac before, but all the recent duck recipes suggest placing your cut duck pieces on a bed of celeriac, so I did and its actually very nice. After boiling down, I mashed with plenty proper butter and some fresh chopped corriander. The duck was pan fried in butter, skin side down, until beautifully golden, then placed onto a roasting rack in the top of the oven. The sauce, I have to say, was a triumph. After removing the fat from the duck pan, I added some more butter and shallots. I then added equal parts chicken stock and pomegranate juice, a good sprinkling of dried juniper berries and dried pomegranate seeds and salt. This was allowed to reduce while we ate the very 1970s style prawn cocktail (served in a high wine glass), so that the sauce was good and sticky when time to serve. Adding my favourite roast potatoes, carrots and green beans, it was a feats to behold. Steve even said it would rival a restraunt's duck dish - high praise indeed!

Dessert- nearly killed us - Vanilla chocolate Creams. I did make quite a lot, in fact there is enough left for maybe two more desserts each! A cream based, two layered, set dessert that is wonderfully rich!

Vanilla Chocolate Creams

450ml double Cream

Vanilla pod

6 tbspn castor sugar

200ml creme fraiche

3 tbspn water

2 tsp powdered gelatine

50g chocolate (think I actually used more like 75g of dark, continental chocolate)

* Put cream, sugar and split vanilla pod into a pan, heat gently and stir constantly until the sugar has dissolved. Bring to the boil then allow to simmer for 2-3 minutes.

* Take off the heat. Remove vanilla pod and stir in creme fraiche.

* Put gelatine in the water (in a different bowl) and allow to go spongy. Heat the water/gelatine in a bowl over hot water (bains marie?) and stir until dissolved.

* Add gelatine to cream mix and stir well.

* Separate cream mix into two equal portions.

* Melt chocolate in a bowl over hot water, then add to one half of the cream mix. Stir well. Pour this mixture into 4 ramekins - I put it into 2 glasses, WAY too much!! Place into fridge to cool for 20 minutes. Leave remainning vanilla cream mix at room temperature.

* When chocolate cream has set, spoon over the reaminning vanilla cream and return to fridge.

* When ready to serve, grate over some extra chocolate, or as I did, add a little grenache!

Diet went well and truly out of the window today! Do I care?! Not in the slightest as I celebrated the greatest love of all - creating dishes I have carefully, lovingly prepared, and have someone (other than me) appreciate and enjoy it. Life to me doesn't get much better than this!

Hope you all had a wonderful day, no matter what.

Nx

Flipping Fantastic (WARNING: Pancakes were harmed in the making of this blog)

Sorry I haven't written very much over the last couple of weks, between work, social engagements and general yoyoing emotions, I haven't got round to writing.

This week was bizarre. After Monday's let down, I got back on the horse so to speak. I started again. I began to think carefully again about what I was eating and what I was doing to combat anything I shouldn't be eating!

Tuesday was great, I still felt a little disheartened about my Monday binge. It shook me well and truly. I was disgusted with myself. But there is no point dwelling, if I am that appauled, I shoudl do something about it. Food on Tuesday wasn't ncessarily the smartest as it was pancake day, but god damn it, I wasn't missing out on pancakes. Steve was shocked that I had never flipped a pancake before, so after making a batter together and arguing over the best technique to make the perfrct pancake, we got to flipping! Once I had begun to flip the pancakes, Steve said I had to go for 'Big Air'. This meant I had to, one handed, flip the pancake practically as high as the ceiling. For this, we moved into the dinning the room after Steve had hit the lights in the kitchen. After throwing my pancake into my face several times, I did finally manage 'Big Air'!! Hooray! You might think, but as my air born pancake reached its lofty heights the wind direction changed (the ceiling of my victorian terrace clearly has its own climate), it no longer was directed tpwards my open pan. It was cruelly swept away from me and landed slap down on the wooden floor. Never mind, it still got eaten!!

Steve also had a similar problem with his 'Big Air'. But his mathamatical brain managed to calculate the physics of the experiment so he could catch his pancakes, unscathed. However, bravery took over and he attempted the ultimate pancake toss. The pancake was flipped in 'Big Air' stylee, he pun on the spot, pan flung out in the opposite direction, the pancake . . . on the floor! Devestated he lay on the floor, crestfallen at his fallen pancake. He wanted to give up. He had given up. Nevertheless, my 8 year old inner child that had never flung pancakes before, was mesmerised - he just had to try again! The pancake, now quite cold, was returned to the pan and attempt 2 took place. As the spin was completed, I closed my eyes momentarily, praying the pancake would make it. Opening my eyes I saw Steves pancake land perfectly into the pan, arms aloft we cheered like no one has cheered before! Steve ran a small circle around the dinning room, praising his greatness! He celebrated by eating the cold floor pancake!

It was lovely, I was a child again. My Mum never flipped pancakes, I had never even tried. Its pathetic I know, and its strange how something so simple and so innocent can revitalise you. I knew I shouldn't really have eaten so many pancakes, I knew pancake shouldnt really be in my hair, I knew I shouldn't eat food that had been on the floor, but none of that seemed to matter. I was 8 again, I dind't need to watch what I was eating - ust for a moment. I was suddenly relaxed and happy. I had had a major stress over Monday, which was probably partly due to my stresses in other areas of my life. I have been up and down very much over the last couple of weeks, doubting myself at many corners. But all my worries were flipped away in the toss of a pancake! Wonderful!

Aside from all that, I am now 12 stone 3! Just 2 pounds to go to reach the half way point! Hooray!!!!!!! I am sooooooooooooooooo happy. Yesterady at work, so many people commented on my weightloss, noticing I had a waist again - I was only wearing jeans and a jumper! I felt fabulous. However, I have my lovely Cie this weekend so wine will be drunk, sushi eaten, and hopefully, mucho fun will be had! Not necessarily great for the waist line!

Nx

Ranting Rebirth

(Photo - a previous Subway Commercial)

How evil are adverts?!

I have always known there must be some spawn of satan hidden behind most adverts, but some are just disgusting. Steve has a marketing degree or two and openly admits that people in marketing and advertising have no care for human kind.

I have noticed several examples of this, but I thought I would just share the one from todays adventures. We decided, well I say we, I decided and steve was forced to come with me despite feeling poorly and having a sore shin (I don't know)! Anyway, I decided to take a walk to the mini tesco to get my ingredients for my nigella day. I could quite easily get all the ingredients from the corner shop, which steve did notice and then winged about for the 2 mile walk to tesco! On our way, during steve winging about being hungry, we stopped into subway.

Now, as far as I know, subway pride themselves as being the 'healthier' fast food option. In America they use previously obese people to advertise their products, "Look, I'm not a fat mess anymore!" They seem to say. It does depend what you order, and how good you are at saying no. For example, I asked for a 6 inch turkey salad, on honey and oat bread, no cheese. The less than intelligent counter assistant said, "No cheese!" "No Cheese," I replied. After a puzzled look she put the turkey pieces onto the bread. "Salad?" she ugged at me, "Tomatoes, cucmber and lettuce please," was my healthy option. "Pickles, olives, gerkins, onions, peppers . . ." It went on, "No thanks, just those." "No gerkins? Black olives? onions?" Feeling slightly irritated now, I gave in, "Ok, a little bit of gerkin please." "Olives then?" What was this woman on?! "No, gerkins please," I replied and proceeded to watch her lather gerkins all over my salad - so much for "a little bit."

"Any sauce, mayonnaise?" she continued. "No thanks, just as it is." Steve was having similar issues on his three meat and cheese monster. "No mayonnaise?" "No." Politeness was going swiftly out of the window. Her confused, neanderthal like face said it all. She continued to anger me further, "Anyfink else? Any cakes, biscuits, drinks . . ." "NO!!!" I myy have said, but instead I was angered by something completely different.

This is were my hate of advertisers and marketers was reborn. Alongside the till, as in most fat food emporiums, was a cake display. It had the usual, danish swirls, choc-chip muffins, glazed doughnuts, nothing that looked particularly appetising. Along the edges of each shelf were little slogan type things designed to sell. Fair enough, I am aware that is their purpose, but the one that really got me was . . . ."C'mon, one won't hurt!" That, I thought, was completely and untterly irresponsible.

Firstly, they are promoting themselves as a healthier option, therefore should not be having cakes at the till. The fact that they are aiming themselves at total fatties that wish to shead the pounds, means they are aiming at people who are significantly weakened when it comes to food. They are aiming at people who do not necessarily have control. They are aiming at people who are more than likely to pick up a bloody doughnut at the counter. So to put, "C'mon, one won't hurt!" is appualing. They are doing the larger side of the public a disservice. One will hurt if it's every day! They have a 'healthy' sub menu, and reduced cost sandwiches everyday, so yes, people who are so weak to believe their promises will eat there. Will go and grab their lunch there. And will, inevitably, believe the, "One won't hurt phrase." Not good.

Maybe I am going a little OTT, but its all so unneccessary. There is a reason western civilisation is becoming obese. Life is all about convenince but as well all about having what 'you deserve'. In other words, whatever the hell you like. Unfortunately, that is not really an option if you wish to stay healthy. Everything in moderation with a good dollop of exercise thrown in. That is the answer.

Another example of marketing targeting the vulnerable is with baby products. Several ladies at work either are, or have recently been pregnant. Kate in particlar was telling me about her baby shopping. Now, unfortunately, Kate does not make millions. However, advertisers seem to think to have a baby you need to. She went to buy a matress for her new cot, however, as each mattress increased in price, it displayed even more options and extras to help with the comfort of your new baby. Now obviously, you want to do the best by your bouncing bundle of joy, you don't want to become paranoid with a 'bad mum' complex. So when buying a mattress which are you going to buy? The cheap one which is guaranteed to kill your child, or the one the price of a small country that will help it sleep, will insure it never cries, will make it clever and athletic, will make it popular and modest, the one that 'good' parents buy?! OK, slight exaggerations, but not by far! This is how marketers and advertisers make young mums feel.

I am aware that it is all about making money and money makes the world go round blah blah blah. Personally I think they are making a living by attacking the vulnerable and weak. Shame on them. Shame on them all.

No Use Crying Over Spilt Teriyaki

Yet again I was playing master chef. Steve was not feeling too good so I thought I would try and cheer him up with, in my mind, what I do best; food. I decided to make an onion based cous-cous, stir fried veg (done in toasted sesame oil), and strips of Teriyaki chicken (done on the George). The big plates came out, I successfully moulded the couscous into a master chef style mounds, the veg was tastefully displayed at the foot of each couscous tower, and the strips of teriyaki chicken were constructed into a tee-pee over the couscous! Very impressive I thought. I smelt good, it looked . . . interesting, I was actually quite excited about my tea!

Not quite so masterchef-like was our then laziness in having tea in bed!! Yes, this may seem disgustingly slobbish, but sometimes its necessary. However, Snoopy had another idea. I love my snoopy slippers, but I forget I can't actually walk in them. I scaled the stairs, a lovingly designed dinner in either hand, just one more step to go when Snoopy raised his evil head! As in slow motion I watched the plates fly through the air, I watched the waterfall of beansprouts and poultry pause momentarily mid flight, as I crumpled down onto my knee and elbow (on the edge of a step) There was CRACK! that echoed the break in my heart!

I must have sat staring at the mountainous mess and broken ceramics on the floor and wall for a good couple of minutes. I couldn't believe it. Steve stood looking on apologetically as if he had been the one who told snoopy to play such a wicked trick. And then I started to cry. There has been so much going on in my head of late it was as if, all of a sudden, the licks of brown juice on my skirting board were just the final blow. Whilst trying to pick out the grains of couscous in my carpet, I sobbed, thinking, "Is this a metaphor for our dreams?" (Ok, just so you don't think I'm totally melodramatic; various dreams of people have recently been quashed or come into serious question, including mine). Was this beautiful, now inedible, pile of mulch the proof that had been looming for so long. Was this dinner disaster telling me that dreams are not supposed to be fulfilled? Just as I was destined never to eat my chicken terriyaki?

Sobbing still, picking myself up on my scuffed knee and bruised elbow, I carried the matted hair, floor nast and (probably) toe nail flavoured coucous back down the stairs in a mournful procession. As I poured the remains into my compost pot, Steve came and wrapped his arms around me. He gently wiped away the running mascara on my cheek and gave me a kiss. This made me see the coucous mess in another way. Maybe it wasn't a metaphor that dreams cannot be reached at all. Maybe I had misread it. Maybe it meant our dreams could be reached if we are desperate enough - If we can put up with the crap that comes with reaching the goal, If we can eat the chicken along with the carpet fluff and meters of hair? Dreams should be hard to reach, and sometimes unpleasant on the way. It makes the satisfaction of reaching them all the better.

Starving still, out came the prawns and another sachet of coucous (I like it!). Cooked off the onions again, added some veg and garilc and left my couscous to cook. As I piri-piried my prawns I started thinking differently again. Maybe not ALL dreams are achieveable but it doesn't mean you shouldn't have them. Just change your ambitions, change your dreams. Change to piri-piri prawns! Ok, they may not be what you originally wanted, they may not seem as appealing, but my god, when you reach them you feel better then ever.

For now, I will just have to dream of my chicken teriyaki . . . . as I need to buy more chicken!

Nx

Naked Twister in Rio

Trust is a funny old thing. Take Steve; I trust him completely, whole heartedly and without question. When Caroline came to stay with us for a while before Christmas, Steve went out with his old work colleagues. "I'll be home for 7 . . . 8 at the latest," he had assured me. I wasn't particularly bothered when he wasn't home when I went to bed at 1.30am. I knew he was at Kath and Rich's.

He apparently came in about 2, promptly sat on Carloine on the sofa and fell asleep, full length on top of her while watching Pride and Prejudice. Around 5 he woke up and came to bed - I didn't even stir. I joked in the morning that it was a good job I trusted him, not many women would be happy about their other half falling asleep atop another woman!

Tonight he was entering a poker tournament, the winning prize: a trip for two to Rio. The trip however was in term time and while dreaming over his potential winnings said he would take Caroline. This again, I have no issue with, even when he was saying he would like to take her to Rio and play naked twister with her! Steve is not a perve, he likes to say these things to gauge my reactions I think!! It made me giggle, it made Caoline wince a little I think when I told her, mainly as she has had an aversion to twister since childhood! Some bad, naked experience as a teenager? Guess that one had been supressed as deeply as she could!

Anyway, I trust Steve entirely. I trust Caroline with my life. I trust that certain things in life will be as they should. I trust that if you are a good person, good things will happen in your life. I trust that if you love, you will be loved in return. However, I am not very good at trusting myself.

I don't trust my intelligence. This evening I burst into tears while Steve was teaching me a new card game. I didn't grow up playing what I would class as 'intelligent' games, and whenever faced with something that I feel is beyond my intelligence I panic. For some reason card games are part of this - I like snap! I know this may sound daft to people but I do doubt myself on a seemingly hourly basis.

I don't trust myself to buy a box of chocolates and not eat the entire lot in 5 minutes. I don't trust myself to eat sensibly when cooking for one. I don't trust myself to actually take care of my body. I don't trust myself to see through something that is dificult. I don't trust myself to have the motivation to continue with this life change.

But I am learning and I am gradually getting better. My confidence is growing, but any slight draw back will necessitate a total rebuild. I don't know if I have always been like this or if it is something I have developed as an adult. There are so many things that I genuinely believe I can't do. I can't take compliments, I don't do too well with praise - why? I dunno.

Ive started to believe it is all linked to how I feel about my body. The bigger I am the less confidence and trust I have in any part of my life. So this positive change is bound to help, and hopefully, well I think ineviatbly, I will be able to take on anything!

As for Steve's winnings? Well, Rio will have to wait. There might be some room for naked twister though.

Night.

Nx