How is it that despite my best intentions I still end up eating too much food on Xmas day?
I tried to be good. Just a little bit of ham…..and pork……..and chicken………..and turkey…………..and potatoes…………and pumpkin, sweet potato, roasted beetroot and carrots.
I blame my mother’s Xmas pudding. It was SO good. SO good. And combined with the custard and whipped cream………….my tastebuds were having tiny orgasms in my mouth. SO good I went back for another slither.
Plus there was all the lovely fresh fruit. And a gingerbread house.
And cheesecake……….but I didn’t have any cheesecake.
Then I needed a cup of tea.
It’s 8pm and I still feel like I’m going to explode.
As much as I am complacent about the whole idea of Xmas this year, I know that I would be the victim of a lynching if I did not produce my shortbread biscuits. I have been baking this particular recipe for approximately 18 years and giving them out as Xmas gifts for, possibly, 14 years.
Every year it’s the same. I find myself standing in the kitchen over the course of two or three evenings baking away. More often than not the temperature in the house is not terribly conducive to the idea of baking, but bake away I must.
Fortunately tonight the conditions were excellent for baking a biscuit made with an awful lot of delicious butter. Two batches done. Two more to go.
Someone I work with, who shall remain nameless but she’ll know who she is when she reads this, suggested to me today that I could just go out and buy shortbread. *GASP* The thought of buying shortbread simply never crosses my mind.
The thought that DID cross my mind was, quite simply, not baking any shortbread at all this year.
Can you just imagine the disappointment??!!!! Can you visualise the looks of excited anticipation being wiped away in seconds as the horrible realisation that they were not getting their Xmas shortbread registered in their brains?
As blasé as I am about this ‘festive season’, I can’t bring myself to be a total Grinch.
What idiot starts baking Xmas shortbread when the temperature is 35 degrees celcius outside, in a house that has an inadequate air-conditioning system?
Ooooo….that would be me. 🙂
The reigning Queen of Procrastination has decided that tonight is the night to begin baking her annual batches of Xmas-themed shortbread. Why? Because baking in heat is more appealing than going to the local shopping complex to begin Xmas shopping.
Yes. You read it correctly…begin. I have not yet begun my Xmas shopping. Not really anyway. I have happened upon a a couple of things when I haven’t been looking, but they are not for family. I have no bloody idea what I’m going to do for them.
The only thing that put a damp rag on today was the fact that it was not terribly warm. Me no complain. It is only the fourth day of spring, and the weather is going to take time to improve. I can’t even complain about the fact that I worked for a few short hours this morning because I managed to achieve that wonderous feeling of completion. Those pesky ‘must do’ things that I ‘couldn’t do’ through lack of available free work time finally got done while I manned the reception desk. 🙂
So I tootled off to lunch feeling pretty good. Yes, I went out to lunch. A deliciously, decadent long lunch. A deliciously, decadent long lunch at a cafe with a beautiful, panoramic view of the Maribyrnong River. Certainly not a cheap lunch, but I won’t be eating dinner tonight.
And one of the highlights of this cafe, apart from the delightful vista, is where it is situated. In one of the best garden nurseries in Melbourne, Poynton’s. Here, the staff are incredibly helpful, the plants are in excellent condition and you can wander up to the cafe to enjoy breakfast, lunch or a lovely tea or coffee and cake when the urge takes you.
Poynton’s is always bursting with colour. It is a crazy photography person’s dream. I had to physically restrain myself from pulling the camera out of my bag the moment I arrived as I was expected in the cafe for lunch. I had to reason with myself and inwardly tell myself that the flowers would still be there after I had enjoyed lunch. I’m sure that my body was visibly twitching with frustration as I walked up to the cafe.
Sadly, there was one group of flowers that were not there when I left the nursery at nearly 4pm. Actually, that is not quite correct, they were there, they just were no longer blooming. Sun chasing flowers that had already closed for the day. They looked incredible when I arrived at 1:15pm, they were nondescript at 4pm.
Photographer’s regret. That missed opportunity.
So I have two choices. I can either make sure I allow myself extra time to get somewhere “just in case” I need to take photos, or I can spend the rest of my life apologising to people for running late because “I was on time but I had to stop and photograph a flower, a person, a building, a car, a something………………….”
Let’s be honest here. I’m never going to be so organised that I will allow extra time to be somewhere. So to my friends and family I extend my apologies now. If you love me you’ll accept the way things will be. I really am sorry. But I can’t stop it. This photography is my addiction. (Well, it’s one of my addictions)
Yes. It is my birthday. I went to bed and to sleep last night aged 47 and awoke this morning aged 48.
Do I feel 48? No.
Did I feel 47?? No.
Do I think I should ‘act my age’?? Why start now?? 🙂
Am I enjoying all the birthday messages from friends far and wide? Absolutely!! I’m a Leo girl. If there were no adoring friends I would be curled up in a corner sulking.
It has been one of those real marvellous Melbourne Winter’s days. We have had wind, rain, sun, heavy rain at school pick-up time, sun, drizzle, foreboding dark clouds, wind, more rain and temperatures that barely reached double figures.
On days like today all I want for dinner is some hearty food. Hot, hearty, tasty, filling, comforting food. A home-made soup, a roast, a casserole, a stew or a vegetable packed risotto. These are what my body craves when the weather is bleak.
Unfortunately, I usually don’t decide this until after I finish work at 5pm. By the time I get home there is no time to make soup, slow-cook a casserole or stew or cook a roast. Well, there is…….. but I do like to eat before midnight. 🙂
But there is time to make my favourite risotto. A Woman’s Weekly recipe that I have adapted to accommodate my occasional need for vegetables. Tomatoes, carrot, zucchini and spinach…..sometimes sweet potato too.
And tonight it was a mighty fine risotto, even if I do say so myself.
Once again #1 son decided that time with his mates was far preferable to having dinner with his mother. I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that my little boy is a young adult with his own transport and his own life. I am very pleased that this has happened and I most certainly do not begrudge him the freedom that he is now enjoying.
My issue lies with the fact that he never knows if he is going to be home for dinner until around 5pm and will rarely accept an offer from me for a home-cooked meal a day or two in advance. No decision is made until he fields all the possible social opportunities. Unless it is really important and I make him put it in his diary, I cannot guarantee his attendance at the dining table.
It wouldn’t bother me so much if I was already cooking for 3 or 4 people, but if #1 son is not home for dinner it means that I am just cooking for one………me.
When #1 son was home for dinner regularly, I would make an effort to cook a proper meal, making sure that we were getting a healthy meal. Like all good mum’s it would be meat and three veg, or a nice vegetarian pasta, or a chicken and salad dish. But cooking for one can be a real downer, especially if you know that you will be doing the dishes by yourself as well. If you cook with it you have to clean it. So often I decide not to cook.
However………………
Sometimes I get that ‘bugger you’ mentality and decide to cook something really nice, just for me. Tonight was one of those nights. And I get a secret pleasure in knowing that when he arrives home later and the magnificent smells of my sensational evening meal-for-one make him question what I have had for dinner, I can tell him and watch his face drop as he realises what he has missed out on.
Sometimes it will be my favourite dish of eye fillet with scalloped potatoes and glazed carrots. Sometimes I will cook a mini roast dinner with a golden chicken kiev. Tonight it was fish and chips. A lovely piece of flake coated lightly in cornflour and shallow fried in the skillet accompanied by chunky hand-cut chips. A generous grinding of salt and couple of quarters of lemon off the tree out the back for seasoning and flavour………
Comfort food indeed. Delicious. (and only the skillet to wash)
What do you get when you combine breakfast and lunch? You get brunch!!
Ahhhhhhh brunch. *sigh* That wonderous meal that you have on a lazy Sunday morning when it has just proven too difficult to drag yourself out of that nice comfortable bed. (Often because you have been out late the night before)
Sunday brunch has also become a marvellous time to meet up with friends and family to enjoy a meal and ‘waste’ a few hours over tea and coffee. And brunch is a meal. Make no bones about it, brunch is much more than a bowl of Corn Flakes or a piece of Vegemite toast. Brunch is breakfast AND lunch combined. This is two for one and you make it big because it has to last you till dinner.
Brunch is an omnivores delight. Brunch lovers can go crazy on sausages, bacon, chorizo, hash browns, tomatoes, eggs, mushrooms, avocado, baked beans……….Sometimes all on the one plate. Two meals in one. 🙂 Good cafes don’t forget the vegetarian, vegan and gluten folk. There’s plenty of fruits, nuts, yoghurt, muesli, special breads and the like for them.
Melbourne’s cafes thrive on the brunch lovers. We want our Sunday morning cook-up but we don’t want the cleaning up that goes with it. So Melbournians hit the cafes in their thousands and we do so in various stages off disrepair or glamour.
Melbournians arrive for brunch in one of two ways, either looking like they’ve just crawled out of bed and climbed into the nearest items of clothing that they found on the floor or they are dressed to impress. Men are generally unshaven and dishevelled, clutching that double-shot latte in their hand with grim determination while they try to read the sports pages of the Sunday papers. Women, if they have braved the world without make-up, are hiding behind hats, scarves and sunglasses sipping that skinny soy cap as if it will breathe life back into them.
The brunch culture is a weekend ritual for so many. For me, it is an occasional luxury. And I like that it is an occasional luxury. If I ‘did brunch’ every weekend I would not appreciate the luxury that it is. Because, in reality, who can really afford to spend $25 per person for breakfast every weekend?? Not me. I’ve got more important things to spend $25 a week on. I could put that money away for some camera equipment!!! Or maybe a ticket to a musical. Or towards a decent holiday.
So I make brunch at home. And I have got it mastered. Lightly toasted home-made bread, cooked tomato, smashed avocado, well-cooked bacon and perfectly poached eggs that have herbs and marinated feta cooked into them. Freshly squeezed orange juice. As many cups of tea as I want…………
Admittedly, I have to do my own cleaning up but my brunch costs a hell of a lot less than $25 and I never have to deal with screaming children, smokers or car fumes. I get to choose with whom I brunch.
Had to do the grocery shopping today. Had to. Things were desperate. We were at the last of the milk, we had no cold meat, no bananas, no salad mix…….. So I dragged the unwilling and recalcitrant #1 son out of his bed and made him push the shopping trolley through Coles, Aldi and the fruit and veg shop.
While negotiating the fruit and vegetable aisle of Coles to get to the deli I came across something that I had never seen before. Something unusual. Something that made me wonder just what the bloody hell one would do with it????
Have you ever come across the Buddha’s hand before? Have you ever made anything using the Buddha’s hand?
I had to wait till I got home so that I could Google it. Thank you Wikipedia. 🙂
Buddha’s hand, Citrus medica var. sarcodactylis, or the fingered citron, is an unusually shaped citronvariety whose fruit is segmented into finger-like sections, resembling a human hand. In Japanese it is called bushukan (ブッシュカン).
The different cultivars and variations of this citron variety form a gradient from “open-hand” types with outward-splayed segments to “closed-hand” types, in which the fingers are kept together. There are also half-fingered fruits, in which the basal side is united and the apical side fingered. The origin of this kind of citron is commonly traced back to the Far East, probably north eastern India or China, where most domesticated citrus fruits originate.
Perfume
Buddha’s hand fruit is very fragrant and is used predominantly in China and Japan for perfuming rooms and personal items such as clothing.
Religious
The fruit may be given as a religious offering in Buddhist temples. According to tradition, Buddha prefers the “fingers” of the fruit to be in a position where they resemble a closed rather than open hand, as closed hands symbolize to Buddha the act of prayer. In China, the Buddha’s hand fruit is a symbol of happiness, longevity and good fortune. It is also a traditional temple offering and a New Year’s gift.
Food and medicine
Though esteemed chiefly for its “exquisite form and aroma”, the Buddha’s Hand fruit can also be eaten (often as a zest or flavouring) in desserts, savory dishes and alcoholic beverages (such as vodka) or candied as a sweet. The sliced, dried peel of immature fruits is also prescribed as a tonic in traditional medicine.
I, of course, simply had to take a photo of this unusual citrus. #1 son, of course, had to run away and hide from the embarrassment of his mother taking a photo of a fruit in the Coles supermarket.
Honestly, kids these days. They get embarrassed by their parents so easily.
There is almost nothing better than the smell of freshly baked bread.
“No my precious boy, we are not out of bread. I had a feeling in my waters that you had taken the last slices out of the freezer and not mentioned anything to me. So I made sure that I put the ingredients in the bread maker this morning before I left for work.”
Did you pick up on the sarcasm?
#1 son would have not been a happy chappy had he discovered that there was no bread in the freezer for his lunch tomorrow. I would have appreciated a heads up that we had run out, but young adults forget the basics. I just had that mother’s instinct, that ‘feeling in my waters’ that he had used the last slices for his lunch today.
So #1 mum made sure that the bread machine went into bake mode today. And when I arrived home at lunchtime to await the glaziers my nostrils were delightfully assaulted by the aroma of freshly baked bread. Is there a nicer smell in the world?
It was a traditional Aussie lunch for me today. Fresh bread (the crusty ends), still warm from the machine, slathered in butter and enhanced by just the right amount of Vegemite. Add a cup of tea to wash it down and I was in heaven.
A photo a day for 365 days.........and beyond 