girls are weird.

23 May 2007

DIY SOS

We've had the builders in (no, that's not a euphemism) to take care of our en suite renovations, and thank the gods, it's finally finished. Well, except for the fact that our shower pump has decided not to work but that should get sorted next week. My husband and father-in-law have been slaving away with the bedroom renovation, with just some painting and a carpet installation left to do. This means I can start sorting out the nursery next week. This makes Heavily Pregnant Lady very happy.

Some before and after pics of the en suite, because I know you people love that sort of thing. (especially now that our "Changing Rooms" has gone off the air)

The en suite was cobbled together by the Man With No Taste who lived here before us. It had floral tiles, a shower, a ratty old carpet, sink, and for some inexplicable reason, a bidet. That's right, a bidet. No toilet, just a bidet. Don't ask me why. This is the en suite before:

And after pics can be seen here. I luuuurve it! If I could fit a giant tub and fancy toilet in there, it would be like staying in a nice hotel.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

22 May 2007

ode to a very patient dog

You give me a baleful look when your eye has been poked for the tenth time today,
but you simply walk away and curl up on your beanbag.
When your ears get pulled and your whiskers plucked,
you respond with a severe licking that usually drives the culprit away.
You've been used as a stepladder,
horsey,
chair,
pillow,
and have been scolded many times for coming a bit too close to "MY bike!"
You've had yoghurt dumped on your head,
your blankets stolen from you,
and your bed taken over.

And there's another one coming in June.
We'll make it up to you, promise.

Happy 4th birthday, Jasper.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

18 May 2007

meatball hooligan

You know how some people shout at the television when they watch sports? Like when the referee makes a bad call or a player does something stupid? Me, I shout at the television when I watch cookery programmes.

Examples*:
"I cannot believe she just put double cream in a risotto! CREAM! In a risotto! Ffffttt."
"Why is she adding salt to a salad dressing made almost entirely of Hellman's mayonnaise?"
"Did he just say he pureed olives and honey to make a sauce for the cake? Ewww!"
"Noooooooo you don't put prunes in brownies!"
"Who the hell has time to blanch and peel 1kg of almonds?!"

*(extra points to you if you can guess which TV cook I'm shouting at for each quote.)

Paul often asks me why I watch certain programmes, as I tend to get vexed at some more than others. It's a good question, really. I do enjoy watching my programmes but cannot resist giving (loud) advice when I see something awry. Why do people shout at televised sports? To get into the spirit of the game? To feel superior to/more knowledgeable than the officials? Maybe I secretly want to host my own cookery show. I should apply to Gordon Ramsay who is looking for a new female TV chef, although I think he's seeking a cross between Joan Crawford and Martha Stewart. And I cannot be bothered to put together a 3 minute audition tape.

I love food, and I cannot let a perfectly good piece of grilled duck be forced to sit in a pool of mango coulis without some words of protest. I cannot. At least not while I've got a lot of free time on my hands and a hormonal imbalance.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

10 May 2007

say again?

I don't know what's wrong with me, but I keep mishearing song lyrics lately. The first one was the new Natasha Bedingfield song; I swore she said "I wanna have your babies, it's serious like rabies." Apparently she's actually saying "you're serious like crazy" but I kind of prefer my version since the rest of the song is just as ridiculous. The other day, I thought Jamie T was singing "Sheila goes out with homemade Stella" (as in Stella Artois, the beer) but the actual lyrics are "Sheila goes out with her mate Stella" (also in reference to the beer.) I was wondering how one would make Stella at home, so perhaps the real lyrics are more suitable in this case. I think what all of this means that I'm officially old and will soon embarrass my children by singing misheard song lyrics out loud during school runs.

Must add these to the classic Archive of Misheard Song Lyrics site.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

08 May 2007

enjoying it while i still have an income

Maternity leave update: have watched all recorded episodes of "Desperate Housewives" but am now five episodes behind with "Lost" (don't even ask how many "Battlestar Galacitca" episodes I have recorded), my son has given me a miserable cold, my husband made the best roast chicken dinner ever on Sunday, I'm seeing a homeopath who thinks the baby will have a calm demeanor (one can only hope) but will arrive late (typical girl), and it's 9.30 in the morning and I have a craving for Burger King.

Riveting stuff, eh?

On Saturday night, the girls and I went to Graffiti at the Hotel Felix in Cambridge. It's modern and inviting, staffed by attentive (if not a little bit loopy) waitpersons. I had crab spring rolls to start, that unfortunately came with two trends that are currently driving me nuts: foam and gelatin cubes. Maybe I'm unsophisticated, but foam always reminds me of cuckoo spit and looks completely unappetising. More importantly, the foam that came with my spring rolls added no identifiable flavour (it was supposedly apple) which just reinforced my theory that it's unnecessary. The jelly cubes, although flavoursome, also didn't add anything of note to the dish. Like the tiny towers of food on gigantic white plates of the 80s, purposeless foam and jelly cubes irk me to no end. The spring rolls themselves were lovely however, leading nicely to my main course of grilled duck breast, herbed mashed potatoes, and sauteed cabbage. Dessert for all of us was a chocolate fondant with raspberry sorbet. When Tosha told the waiter that we were having "chocolate fondant all around", the waiter thought she meant one between three of us. I'm guessing he doesn't spend a lot of time around groups of women. The wine waiter was hilarious, and kept trying to fill my glass with prosecco despite being told numerous times that I'm heavy with child. Europeans are slightly more lax about alcohol intake during pregnancy (continental Europeans even more so), but I'm pretty sure that no one condones several glasses in one evening. Or maybe I just looked like I really needed several drinks and he was trying to do me a favour. At any rate, it was agreed that we would like to take him home in our pocket because he was so darn cute.

And in other culinary news, my mom sent a parcel last week containing more supplies of Kraft Dinner. No foam or cubes, thanks.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

03 May 2007

notes from the sofa

Today feels like my first official day on leave; I'm home with the dog with nothing on the agenda other than a midwife appointment this afternoon. Astoundingly, I was showered and dressed before 9 this morning. Hoo yeah, I know how to live it up.

We went into London town on Tuesday to see Spamalot with work (to celebrate our many product releases), which was okay...mostly because it was free. I've seen "The Holy Grail" so many times I know the entire film verbatim, so scenes lifted directly from the film for the stage version didn't really fill me with laughter. The new scenes weren't that hilarious either, although I did snort out loud a couple of times during the (more enjoyable) second act. What was nice was being in London and catching up with workmates from both offices. Our product release celebrations tend to be limited to drinking venues, and also tend to coincide with me being pregnant or breastfeeding. This event I could enjoy.

After the play, we went to a restaurant called Benares. As you all know, we're suckers for "celebrity chef" restaurants and this one fit the bill. Atul Kochhar was the first Indian chef to receive a Michelin star a few years ago and has since opened up Benares where he has received another Michelin star. He is currently on the second series of "Great British Menu" on BBC2, which is the programme that introduced him to us last year. We decided to take advantage of our time in London (probably our last before the baby comes) and have a posh Indian meal to end our day.

Benares is located on Berkeley Square in the Mayfair district. A short walk up a stone staircase leads to the bar, decorated in dark wood with rectangular ponds filled with exotic flowers. The restaurant area is to the right, neutrally decorated in white walls and dark wood, with a sense of cosiness despite the stark decor. I had a soft shell crab and squid salad to start, while Paul had a plate of salt cured salmon. I can't vouch for Paul's salmon (there was some talk that he deliberately chose something I couldn't eat), but my salad was divine. Although it's slightly unnerving to shove an entire crab into my mouth, legs and all, it was tender and sweet. Both the crab and the squid rings were coated in a light spicy batter and served with a sweet papaya dressing. It was a beautiful combination of hot and sweet. For our main course, I had monkfish with a ginger and coriander sauce, and Paul had tandoori prawns that were the size of a Rolex. Both dishes were perfectly cooked and spiced, only needing one portion of delicately flavoured rice between us to complete the meal. For dessert, we both opted for banana-filled crepes in a cinnamon chocolate sauce.

We were more than pleased with our food and the quality of the service, however service was too attentive, if there is such a thing. As soon as one sip of water was taken, someone was there to top up the glass. During the entire meal, I could see wait staff bobbing around the corner checking our table to see if I needed my napkin refolded (I'm not exaggerating - they did this while I was in the bathroom at one point) and to clear away our plates the moment the last forkful touched my lips. I found it very distracting and the interruptions created several pauses in our conversation as we politely smiled and thanked our sixth waitperson (again, I'm not exaggerating) for refilling our water for the twentieth time. Our only other complaint would be the cost - that was the priciest curry we've ever had in our lives, and we're not convinced it was warranted. Starters were in the £13 range and mains were £16 (for the veggie options) to £38, and considering the portion sizes, we didn't really get a whole lot for our £120 final bill. I'm glad we went and we had a fantastic evening, but I can't say I'd want to go back again.

Well, maybe if someone else is paying.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --