girls are weird.

29 December 2004

no. more. turkey.

Oh what a relief to have finished up work for 2004. Hellish deadlines (which seems to happen every December at every company I've ever worked for as a tech author) but at least we didn't have to worry about hosting the festive feast this year. We drove down to Kent on remarkably quiet roads and motorways on Friday morning and opened our stocking stuffers later that night. I got a Labrador puppies calendar (awwwwwwwww), two cookbooks, and three of the most exciting presents ever: Peanut Butter Cups and Goldfish crackers (Paul managed to find a shop that sells these in Milton Keynes - although for the price, you are better off getting a friend to send them to you from North America and pay for the postage), and a year's subscription to Heat magazine. Being hugely pregnant and then housebound with a newborn won't keep me from my celebrity gossip, no siree.

Christmas Day started off with more present getting and giving, including the armload of pressies from my Mom and Dad shipped to us about a month ago. From the inlaws, I got the new Nigella book (I love that woman - this book includes recipes for Sloppy Joes, Shirley Temples, and chocolate cheesecake), the latest Harry Potter DVD, a handmade clown doll for the baby (yes PaulG, I did make a little eeeek noise when I opened it), a set of Winnie the Pooh books for the baby as well, very comfy slippers, and Angels and Demons by Dan Brown (loved the DaVinci Code). Mom and Dad got me a few Roots maternity tops (who knew they did preggie clothes?), slippers, a beautiful lacquered Japanese bowl, a calendar, and an envelope of cash. Saving the best for last, my husband got me a gorgeous necklace with a little diamond star-shaped pendant, more of my favourite perfume (Ralph Lauren), and a very fancy milk frother. We got addicted to Chai tea lattes in the States (Starbucks must put crack in each cup, I'm sure) and have been trying to reproduce them at home. I managed to find a place that carried the Tazo tea in bags, so I got some for Paul along with...a milk frother. Doh. We are now a two milk frother household. I also got him a DVD rewriter (made a bit less of a surprise when he opened the package of blank DVDs from his Mum and Dad first), a kitchen blow torch (it's a macho kitchen implement - open flames! Man make creme brulee! Arrrrrr!), and a set of fancypants cheese knives.

Christmas lunch was fantastic, but sadly, I could not stuff my face because I haven't the stomach room anymore. Although I tend to love all food British, I don't get bread sauce. Really, I don't understand it. You boil a clove-studded onion, a bay leaf, and peppercorns in milk, strain the milk, and then add fresh breadcrumbs and a bit of butter. It's always served with poultry and I just don't get it. Perhaps you need to be raised on it to have a liking for it, but to me, it's rather odd and tasteless. The uncouth North American in me prefers to drown everything on my plate with gravy, thanks. My mother in law made her famous brandy butter for the Christmas pud, and I made a heavenly chocolate trifle. The leftovers made a reappearance with some yummy hors d'oeuvres on Boxing Day, as more family came over for lunch. Poor Jasper had torn a back claw right in two on his walk on Christmas Day, so he was hobbling around with a bandaged paw feeling very sorry for himself. On Monday, we ventured out to Bluewater shopping centre...which apparently the rest of the free world decided to do that day as well. We discovered that Bluewater now has a Krispy Kreme doughnuts shop (still have yet to try one). Indeed. We returned home on more delightfully quiet roads and motorways, with a tin foil-wrapped bundle of leftover turkey and ham.

Russ and Debs came by yesterday with more gifts for all of us (even Jasper who got the biggest rawhide chew in the world), and I made a very un-Chistmassy lunch of minestrone soup and homemade pizza. Today is a day of rest; just a midwife appointment and a visit to the vet to fix Jasper's poorly paw. Tomorrow we're off to see Gary, Ruth, and little Naomi. New Year's Eve will be spent at home, and I'll undoubtedly fall asleep on the sofa by 9. On Sunday, my brother in law, sister in law, and our two nieces are coming over to begin a month of "let's visit Paul and Lisa before she gets too huge to move" family get togethers. Then it's back to work on the 4th. Ugh. Bleah. Ick.

Please - no more turkey. Oh, but I will finish that box of chocolates.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

23 December 2004

deck them halls

From Lisa, Paul, Pip, and Jasper, have a fantastic holiday, everyone! Now get outta here and drown yourself in eggnog and Christmas puds. xxx

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

21 December 2004

monkey!

It's the last of Ed and Martine's 12 Monkeys for 2004. This month's theme:
"give me a year": What would you do if you had a free year, all to yourself, to dedicate to whatever you wanted? Assume money was not a problem -- you've just received a $60,000 Monkey Grant.
(I'll amend this slightly to £60,000 because $60K Canadian is like a tenner.)

Strangely enough, I do have a year off work starting in February, although it's not exactly a free year to do whatever I want. Still, it's going to be a strange experience and I can only take a guess at what it'll be like. I imagine the first three months will involve a lot of crying and sleepless nights (for all), nappy changing, feeding, and generally being awestruck by this new life in our house. The rest of it is a complete mystery to me. It's going to be a cool but slightly strange trip, I think.

So let's say we weren't expecting a baby and we were taking a year off, full stop. I would travel, as boring as that sounds. I only started travelling a few years ago, so I've got a lot of ground still to cover. Maybe we would do that self build we've been dreaming about, which would likely be easier if we're not working and could live elsewhere during the construction. I would lock myself away in a cottage in the Lake District or the Highlands and write one of the many books I keep threatening to put together. I'd take a class in painting, because it's been far too long since I've done any art. I would go back home for a couple of weeks. I'd stay at a spa and get pampered for at least a long weekend - and take all my girl friends with me. I'd learn another language; I'm leaning towards Italian. I would dust off my bicycle and go on long rides. I'd try to get a job as a travel writer or food critic. Or both.

A year? I think I need a decade.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

17 December 2004

ding dong merrily on high

It's Christmas Day one week from tomorrow! Whee! I'd do a jaunty little dance, but I'm sure nobody wants to see that. Last night, our doorbell rang and as Paul opened the door, I could hear Christmas music blaring from tinny speakers. Some people from something called the round table (Paul assures me they are like a Rotary Club, and not some weird cult) were collecting for charity, while a truck pulled a festively lit sleigh slowly down our street containing a rather slimline Santa. Our neighbours stood in their driveways, bemusedly watching Santa's driver try to negotiate the end of our cul de sac, while Santa waved at us and wished us a happy Christmas. He stopped and spent a bit of extra time chatting with the little blonde girl from across the road (she the adorable kid who came to our house a day early this Halloween), and Jasper ran around in circles wagging like a lunatic. It was really quite nice and I hope they do this again next year - although I suppose our son will be too young to know what's going on, it'll still be fun for me.

The neighbourhood and the village down the road are well into the Christmas spirit this year, in terms of decorations. We spotted a giant inflatable Homer Simpson dressed up as Santa over the porch of one house, but he's mysteriously gone missing. I did notice that he was looking a little bit deflated the other day (and to be honest, it was rather unsettling to see him gradually slump down the side of the wall), so maybe he had to be taken down for repairs. There are houses in one neighbouring village that look like they were decorated by some crazed designer from Vegas. On crack. The entire village's lights must dim when these people switch on their Christmas lights; I really must remember to get a picture.

One more week! One more week! Yippie!

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

16 December 2004

i didn't see poutine on this list

Last night, BBC 2 had a programme on called "50 Things to Eat Before You Die". A few things struck me about this list: 1) some of these foods seemed a bit "tame" (come on, sandwiches?) and 2) for all the "oh, aren't those Americans such horrible awful people who eat like cretins" sentiments I hear so often, a lot of American food items made it to this list. To save you from having to click on the link above to see the list, I've included it here:

1. Fresh fish
2. Lobster
3. Steak
4. Thai food
5. Chinese food
6. Ice cream
7. Pizza
8. Crab
9. Curry
10. Prawns
11. Moreton Bay Bugs
12. Clam chowder
13. Barbecues
14. Pancakes
15. Pasta
16. Mussels
17. Cheesecake
18. Lamb
19. Cream tea
20. Alligator
21. Oysters
22. Kangaroo
23. Chocolate
24. Sandwiches
25. Greek food
26. Burgers
27. Mexican food
28. Squid
29. American diner breakfast
30. Salmon
31. Venison
32. Guinea pig
33. Shark
34. Sushi
35. Paella
36. Barramundi
37. Reindeer
38. Kebab
39. Scallops
40. Australian meat pie
41. Mango
42. Durian fruit
43. Octopus
44. Ribs
45. Roast beef
46. Tapas
47. Jerk chicken/pork
48. Haggis
49. Caviar
50. Cornish pasty

I did find myself nodding in agreement with most of these choices, but some of them surprised me. I had the impression that a "must have" food would either be something truly adventurous or exotic, or special; something you wouldn't normally eat. Pasta? Pizza? Chinese food? Would this be your choice of a last meal? (Okay, I admit, pasta might be mine.) I liked the American choices, probably because they are familiar to me. Every time I go back to North America, I make it a point to get a big breakfast, real cheesecake, and a decent burger. Not all in the same meal, mind you.

I would add dim sum to this list. Sometimes I think food should be an experience, and to me, there's nothing better than sampling a vast array of dishes at one meal. Tapas, dim sum, sushi (especially the kind that trundles by you on a conveyor belt), and similar types of cuisine are really good fun.

I'll pass on the guinea pig, thanks.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

13 December 2004

it's beginning to taste a lot like christmas

This weekend, I did a ton of Christmas baking. I made millionaire bars (shortbread base, ooey gooey caramel layer, topped with melted chocolate), Nanaimo bars, and gingerbread cake. Good news: if you work at my office, I will be bringing in said Christmas goodies later this week or early next week. Bad news: they are currently sitting in my fridge and I have been scoffing them down every time I visit the kitchen - I may have to lock some away to ensure I've got some to share at a later date. Next weekend, I will be making peanut butter cookies (not very Christmassy, but my father in law loves them) and something called "snickerdoodles", which Nigella assures me taste like baked cinnamon doughnuts in cookie form.

I usually overindulge in Christmas treats every holiday season. Sadly, this year, I physically cannot stuff myself because the baby is using all of my stomach real estate. I am hungry - eating for two is a delightful concept - but I cannot eat more than an average plateful of not terribly rich food. Gone are the days of dunking Christmas pudding in my egg nog, whilst shoving turkey legs in my mouth (and chucking the bones over one shoulder). No more teetering mountains of tin foil balls from the 305 chocolate santas I've ingested in front of the TV. Candy canes go undunked in my hot chocolate, second helpings go to my husband, and all you can eat buffets are wasted on me unless I bring Tupperware to take food home with me. I might have a glass of port on Christmas Day, wacky gal that I am.

Not only do I lack the stomach room, I seem to be developing t-rex arms as the weeks go by. Last night during our roast lamb dinner (half a leg, it was marvellous, plus we have leftovers), I pulled my chair up to the table as far as I could. Sitting a good two feet away from my plate, I tried to get slices of gravy-covered lamb into my mouth without dribbling on myself. My short arms couldn't compensate for the belly bump, and even though I was leaning as far forward as I could, gravy spilled down the front of my shirt. There's just no graceful way to recover from something like that, especially when the dog takes an interest in cleaning your shirt for you.

It'll still be like other Christmas holidays, come to think of it. I'll be falling asleep on the sofa shortly after lunch with my trousers unbuttoned. I just won't wake up with a hideous hangover this time.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

10 December 2004

storytime would be nice, too

I was just thinking about small children and their aversion to both eating and sleeping. Ever tried getting a toddler to sit and eat their meal or take a nap? Impossible. Now think about this in the context of the present, at whatever age you're at. Someone says to you, "Come and eat this meal I made for you. Not only is it your favourite, I've already cut everything up for you to save you any extra manual labour." I would never, in a million years, respond by saying "Nah, I'd rather run around in circles screaming and perhaps later shoving some Lego up my nose to see what happens." But that's kids for you. Same goes for nap time, I couldn't possibly imagine not wanting to take a short rest during the day.

So really, nap time and having food custom made for you should be a privilege we enjoy as adults. Children obviously don't appreciate it; this luxury is wasted on them. Let them shove Play Dough in the DVD player, draw pictures on the walls in condiments, and empty the contents of the pantry on the living room carpet. I'll take their snacks and naps any day.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

lisa needs a little lamb

I decided that I would really enjoy a roast lamb dinner for our Sunday roast this weekend. I can do that sort of thing because no sane man would argue with me at this time in my life, and I can get away with being demanding for the time being. So anyway, roast lamb. We've never done a roast lamb before and although I'm sure it's not that difficult to prepare, I think it's a bit of a problem when you're cooking for only 2 (and a half) people. A leg of lamb will surely be too big. What's the alternative? Can you get a small leg of lamb?

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

09 December 2004

"i've come to fix the fridge"

Nigella Lawson's cookery programmes are known for their softcore porn-like quality: soft focus, close ups of Nigella licking a spoon, lots of "mmmmmmmmm" noises, that sort of thing. What I never noticed is that Nigel Slater's "Real Food" programme is remarkably similar. He actually described melted chocolate as "soft and sexy" while jazzy instrumental music played in the background. While it's all fine and good when Nigella does this (in my opinion, she's attractive and sultry in her own domestic goddess kind of way), it's largely unsettling when Nigel attempts to smoulder on the TV screen. Nigel Slater, it must be said, looks a bit like a diminutive person who has recently been sent on a quest to destroy a very naughty ring. I always imagine that just below the camera's view, you can see him standing on a small footstool.

On the other hand, I understand how people can get passionate about food. Cynics claim that spoon-licking in food programmes is merely to get ratings, but I think there is a sincerity to some people's deep love of food. Mine tends to be more of the Homer variety rather than 9 1/2 Weeks. When I'm eating something I'm enjoying immensely and my tablemate tries to converse with me, my instinct is to bury my head deeper into my plate and say "Can't talk. Eating."

Jasper represents my inner food child remarkably well. When it's suppertime, without the aid of a clock (or the ability to tell time), he sits and stares at us, jumping every time we make a move that might be related to retrieving his food. All I need to say is, "Jasper - are you hungry?" and all you will see is a cloud of fur accompanied by the sound of doggy toenails skittering across the laminate floor as he dashes madly into the kitchen. While I'm filling his food bowl, he jumps up and down on the spot, making the occasional "rrrrowr" noise. Once the bowl hits the floor, he dives into it, not emerging until the very last speck of food is gone. Even then, he will go back to his bowl seconds later to see if it has magically refilled. If I wasn't conscious of appearing socially adept (or sane), this is exactly how I would eat my meals.

This is why I think that it's a load of bullocks when people claim that we eat too much because we have "emotional issues". I eat too much because I enjoy good food, which is actually a happy event in my life. Although you won't find me standing in the kitchen caressing cutlery with my tongue, it is highly likely that you'll find me standing at the fridge eating something directly out of its container. Rrrrrrrowr.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

08 December 2004

break out the dreidl

In honour of my lovely Jewish friends, here's a festive Hanukah song courtesy of Adam Sandler. (and I'm not just doing this 'cos I want cheesecake) Everybody sing!

Put on your yalmulkah,
here comes Hanukah,
so much fun-ukah to celebrate Hanukah,
Hanukah is the feastival of lights,
instead of one day of presents we have eight crazy nights!

When you feel like the only kid in town,
without a Christmas tree,
Here's a list of people who are Jewish,
just like you and me!

David Lee Roth,
lights the Menorrah,
so do James Caan, Kirk Dougalas, and the late Diana Shore-ah,
Guess who eats together at the Carnagie Deli,
Bowser from Sha-na-na and Arthur Fonzerelli!

Paul Newman's half Jewish,
Goldie Hawn's half too,
put them together - what a FINE lookin' Jew!

You don't need Deck the Halls or The Jingle Bell Rock,
cause you can spin a dreidl with Captian Kirk and Mr. Spock!
(both Jewish!)

Put on you yalmulka,
it's time for Hanukah,
the owners of the Seattle Supersonic-ahs,
celebrate Hanukah!

OJ Simpson,
not a Jew!
But guess who is?
Hall of Famer Rod Carew (he converted!)

We got Ann Landers and her sister Dear Abby,
Harrison Ford's a quarter Jewish,
Not too shabby!

Some people think,
Ebeneezer Scrooge is,
well he's not but guess who is?
All three Stooges!!!

So many Jews are in show biz,
Tom Cruise isn't,
but I heard his agent is!

Tell your friend Veronica,
its time you celebrate Hanukah!,
I hope I get a harmonica,
on this lovely, lovely Hanukah!
So drink your gin and tonic-ah,
and smoke your marajuanica,
if you really really wanna-kah,
have a happy happy happy,
HANUKAH!

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

01 December 2004

*sneeerrrrrrrrrk*

I have a cold. If you need me, I'll be hiding under my desk, holding my head, and sobbing uncontrollably. This not being able to take cold medication malarky is a bucket of poo.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --