Four sleeps until Christmas

If I were in Oz this time of year, we’d be enjoying mid 30 degree weather (40 this week), long sunny days, blue skies, a few BBQs in the backyard after work accompanied by a bottle of sparkling red, while busily preparing and counting down for Christmas day.

While I’m still trying to finish the preparations for Christmas and counting down until Christmas day, it’s a whole lot chillier in Blighty with not so much sunshine and no chance of an outside BBQ unless you want to develop frostbite on your big toe. I leave for work in the dark and I get home in the dark.  My wardrobe consists of everything long, black, thermal and padded to the effect I look like an Australian version of the Eskimo (well kind of). I’m definitely not used to the cold yet.

But it’s not all miserable.  A cold wintery Christmas, while something I’ve not experienced much in the past, is something I’m looking forward to. I’m hoping for snow but do know that’s not very likely. It doesn’t snow much in London so I’m told. When I open the curtains every morning I do momentarily hope I will see snow falling just like you see in the movies and hear in the Christmas carol… Keep dreaming Tania.

So what is different about Christmas here compared to Oz? The following comes to mind;

 1.  Christmas Lights and Window Displays in London

Ok so I know you get loads of Christmas lights in Oz, just take a drive late one night and you’ll find houses lit up like Christmas trees. But have you ever wandered the streets in London such as Oxford and Carnaby Street? And visited the likes of Fortnum and Mason to see their Christmas window displays? If you're ever in the need to make it feel like it's really Christmas then try it out.

Oxford Street

Outside Tiffanys

Fortnum and Mason window display

Fortnum and Mason window display

2.  The Christmas Jumper

In Oz you wouldn't think of wearing a jumper this time of year. Mid 30-40 plus weather and it's purely t-shirts, shorts and thongs (flip flops). So the fact 50% of the British population in London own a Christmas themed Jumper (thanks Wikopedia) is a new concept for me. I thought you only saw that in the movies e.g. Bridget Jones Diary, but no, it's all the go over here. 

I wonder if I'll get one for Christmas!

3.  Mulled Wine

The alternative to sparkling shiraz perhaps? My first try at mulled wine and I can safely say it is a good hearty warming winter drink. For those of you who haven’t ever tried it… mulled wine is typically red wine or port/claret mixed with various spices. Do drink it sparingly.

4.  Ice Skating

Temporary ice skating rinks start to pop up around key locations in London in November/ December. If you enjoy ice skating you can get your fix at places like Hampton Court Palace, the London Eye, Natural History Museum, Somerset House, Hyde Park and the Tower of London. Imagine ice skating outdoors while it’s snowing… it’s just like the movies!

5. Pantomimes & Christmas Theatre

Last year I was lucky enough to see The Nutcracker. But there is an array of various Christmas plays and theatre including the traditional Pantomime. In Oz we don't really see or hear about any pantomimes so in case you're wondering what they are... they're are a form of musical comedy for families in which the audience is expected to participate such as singing or shouting out phrases.

6.  Bread Sauce and Brussel Sprouts

Instead of the Killer Tomato it’s the Killer Brussel Sprouts for me. I have nightmares about Brussel Sprouts particularly since I'm still scarred by being forced to eat them as a child. You can jazzy them up with bacon and bits but seriously I can't eat the things.

Then there is Bread Sauce….can't say I'd heard of it before but if you want to try it with your roast Turkey this year follow the link to Delia's recipe.

And yes these are all served up with Roast Turkey which is a tradition in both countries no matter what the weather. 

Well time to go and finish some off my Christmas jobs such as ice the cakes. Thankyou for taking the time to read my blog and wherever you are in the world have a safe and happy Christmas.

Expat Blog Awards 2013

The Expat Blog Awards are on again for 2013 with a Top List theme.  So instead of finishing off my Christmas shopping, icing the rest of my Christmas biscuits and actually starting to pack for my trip back to Oz I've delayed the lot to post an entry. 

For those of you who like reading my random posts and who would like to support my entry then head over to ExpatsBlog.com and leave a comment.  You might want to read it first and ensure it's worthy of a vote! Also feel free to like, share and tweet about it. 

If you are still reading this then you might want to note that comments must be more than 10 words and if it's the first time you've left a comment on Expats Blog you will have to verify your email address. Comments within my blog or facebook don't count so if you want to care and share then do so within Expat Blog.

Thankyou

A 5 1/2 minute hard boiled egg

Recently while on holiday, I overheard an elderly man asking a waiter for a hard-boiled egg. It wasn’t that question that caught my attention the most but the next direct requirement that had me stunned. The egg had to be boiled for exactly 5 ½ minutes.  He actually requested that as he sat down at the dining table, crossed his legs and unfolded the newspaper with a little flick, without even a smile or a please added in there for good flavour.

Wow….

With interest I leaned forward waiting for the next specific requirement such as 10 grams of salt, 5 grams of pepper and whatever other condiments might enhance the flavour of that 5 ½ minute boiled egg. Unfortunately that didn’t come.

Really, can we be that fussy that we specify how long something is cooked for down to the seconds?

Isn’t the general guideline for eggs either dippy (runny) or hard?

Perhaps this man has done some scientific testing over the years related to the optimum time it takes to boil an egg related to the best taste, texture and overall output?

If I think about what I’m fussy about in food, I suppose as a child I was a bit of a nightmare. I do recall when we dined out that I’d refuse to eat anything other than sausages and chips. Probably to the detriment of my adult life, because I can’t stand sausages now. However I’d never request specific portion sizes i.e. actual number of chips to be added.

And in adulthood the only thing I won’t eat is stinky fish aka sardines. I wouldn’t think of telling a restaurant to cook my steak for a total of 4 ½ minutes each side, rest for 2 minutes before serving. Steak is either rare, medium or well done.

Have you come across something better than the 5 ½ minute hard-boiled egg request? Do share…

The latest fad

Waiting at the traffic lights this morning on my way to work, as like most mornings, there were only a few of us with some level of patience waiting for the little green man.  The rest were playing frogger with the traffic. Next to me was a man in a grey business suit holding his briefcase in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He obviously was in need of some nicotine because he was taking in some very deep inhalations. On appearance of the little green man he suddenly dropped the cigarette into his coat pocket and took off across the road, at some great speed, to the train station.

 With my keen sense of observation I surmised that; 

a.       It was a little odd I didn’t smell the cigarette smoke as I was standing right next to him. Usually I have to wrap my scarf over my nose; and 

b.      He is going to burn a hole in his pocket (that may have been the first thought); and finally 

c.       I better follow him because I’m keen to see the smoke and after effects of putting something alight into a piece of clothing!

 Anyway, as I was crossing the road I had a sudden realisation.... It’s not a real cigarette. 

Photo source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/42787780@N04/

You might be laughing at this, but I only recently came across something called ‘the electronic cigarette’. There is a shopping stall in Westfield Shepherds Bush advertising and selling these things which I personally just glanced at thinking ‘how odd’, ‘who would buy something like that’ and then didn’t think much more of it.

Seriously who the hell buys an electronic cigarette and actually uses it? You either smoke or you don’t.

Wikapedia shed a bit more light on this new craze; 

An electronic cigarette (or e-cigarette), electronic vaping device^{[citation needed]}, personal vaporizer (PV), or electronic nicotine delivery system(ENDS) is an electronic inhaler meant to simulate and substitute for tobacco smoking. It generally uses a heating element that vaporizes a liquid solution. Some release nicotine, while some merely release flavored vapor. They are often designed to mimic traditional smoking implements, such ascigarettes or cigars, in their use and/or appearance, although more and more devices are designed not to imitate them.^[1][2]

Am I the only one that sounds a little concerned about putting a heating element in your mouth? Why would you bother sucking on something that looks like a cigarette but merely releases a flavoured vapour? Isn't that what the sheesha is for?

Yes it might cut down on the cigarette butts on the street but seriously do you really know what the hell you’re inhaling particularly as they are non-regulated items!?

While I sit here avidly awaiting the next ‘electronic’ fad item for review I’m keenly disappointed I didn’t get to see the smoke and flames result from putting a real cigarette in the pocket. 

The man lying in room 1, bed 3

You would almost be forgiven for thinking you were in an old folks home, because all those that are in room 1 are elderly and significantly incapacitated.

The day that I visit most are sleeping, unable to get out of bed. This isn't for want of trying as I overhear one man desperately asking for the physio who didn't come again today. Apparently there are only 3 physios for the entire hospital.

Spilt coffee cups litter the floor and I'm unsure how long they have been lying there.

There is one man in bed 3 that captures my attention, his slight frame completely overwhelmed by the hospital bed. Protruding cheek bones and sunken eyes. Silvery white and speckled grey hair. His skeletal body is covered in ugly deep purple bruises. Nasty bruises that looks like he's suffered the worst beating of his life.

You almost want to go and touch him to make sure he's still breathing.

But there is life in this 91 year old yet. It oozes from him as soon as he starts speaking to his visitor and he lights up the entire room.

"I've still got all me marbles" he tells her. You know I'm 91 I am, born in 1922. Had a good life I have."

His visitor tries to coax him into drinking and eating but he continually refuses."I don't want to mess myself" he says.

"It doesn't matter, we'll change the bedding" says his visitor.

 "There is no spare bedding" he retorts. 

"Ohhh but we have loads of spare bedding, it won't matter" his visitor tries again.

But the old boy has an answer for everything..."It will cost too much money,can't afford it".

Eventually after much coaxing and a carefully placed urinal bottle, he takes his first sips in almost 24 hours. When he pees, the excitement is overwhelming for him and the whole ward. I just want to high five him. 


His visitor is not a relative, just someone that knows him and she gets his sister on the phone from Manchester. His sister can't travel either as she isn't well. And as they're on speaker phone we all hear the conversation.  

It's evident this lovable larrikin is close to his sister. They love each other and yet will probably never see each other again. While I choke on unshed tears with these thoughts, he jokes and smiles at her from afar.   

With the phone call over his visitor tries once more to get him to eat. He does manage a few spoonfuls. 

The next day she's not there so it's up to the nurses, unfortunately they don't have the love and dedication that a friend or family member have so the food goes uneaten. When they change his bed they don't explain what they're doing, they yank the bedding out and don't understand that a man of 91 who has suddenly gone blind is owed some kind of explanation, respect and care. He screams in pain, and shakes in fear not knowing what is happening to him.

As we leave this sad place in room 1, bed 3 our lovable larrikin reminds the nurses when they again ask him to eat...

"No dear, just let me die. I've had a good life."

A stay at the South Place Hotel

It's not often you take time out to holiday in your own city. Typically you want to escape it. Think of the smog, crowds, cement... who really wants to stick around for that?  Wouldn't wide open spaces, green fields, flowers in bloom and fresh country air be what you crave? Perhaps it's what you prefer, I know it's typically what I prefer.  But sometimes it's worth staying local and pretending you're on holiday.  We recently stayed at an inner city hotel right smack bang in the middle of high-rises, cement, road works and after work crowds. Now that might put you off, but you have to have an open mind and I must say I was pleasantly surprised by my two nights stay at The South Place Hotel.  

Located just near Liverpool Street Tube Station (less than a 10 minute walk), South Place Hotel is unassumingly set among city work blocks.  Unless you knew it was there or if you walked past during a Friday after work drinks session you would walk straight past. 

A new and modern hotel, South Place has only been open for 12 months but its surprising the level of detail it has to make your stay extra special. At the reception desk you are provided with a refreshing minted tea to sip on while the friendly staff check you in. 

The rooms are modern, not huge but big enough for just a two night stay. A comfortable bed and pillows makes it extra hard to get out of bed in the morning, that and probably one to many glasses of red the night before.  The motorised blind completely blocks out any sunshine (let me rephrase...light) so if you have flown in the night before and feel like wasting the day away you wouldn't know what time of day it was.

I loved the detail in the room, from a fresh lemon and lime for your G&T to personalised directories of activities to do either in the hotel or nearby. Then there's the 'oranges and lemons say the bells of st clements' body products in the bathroom.

A great restaurant doubles as a breakfast room and I can highly recommend at least trying the breakfast one morning while you are there.

The hotel has its own games room equipped with pool table, lounges, library, board games and even a turntable if you want to try your DJ skills. Once again I lost all rounds of pool.

If you want an excuse to stay in London after work one night or are looking to surprise your other half, then stay at The South Place Hotel.

Bye for now!

Be consumed.... by the Barossa

It's not often I just do a small random post without pondering for some time over what the hell I write, however this morning I was catching up on news from home and was so proud to see that the South Australian Tourism Commission in collaboration with kwp! advertising won an award at the Cannes festival for a TV ad promoting the Barossa. Well done South Aussies!

One of the secret hideaways in the Barossa

If you haven't seen the ad, definately go and have a look. It's raw and engaging, particularly with the haunting music of Nick Cave.  

Read the article here and see the ad here; http://beconsumed.southaustralia.com/ 

An escape to France

In the South West of France in August the bright yellow sunflowers are in full bloom.  Scattered amongst the lush green fields, some filled with ripening corn, they grab your interest immediately and you just want to stop the car and run out to take photographs. Unfortunately the narrow windy roads negate the ability to stop at those opportune moments so you have to settle for winding down the window, driving quite slowly and snapping as you go.

Yes... one of those happy snaps from the car

We decided to drive to France.  

Unfortunately we had timed our departure with the Friday of a bank holiday weekend. Some four hours later (the usual journey one and a half hours) we arrived in Folkestone ready for our train journey.  I thought I was used to traffic until I came to Blighty. I've never seen anything like that in my life, the jam went for miles and we were stuck there stationery for ages. Thankfully we had a fully stocked car and eventually got there in the end.

Our first night in France (other than the brief stopover in a town near Calais which isn't worth mentioning) was in Chinon at a hotel called Le Plantagenet. Located in the south-west of the Touraine region, Chinon is most famous for where the future Charles VII sought refuge and where in 1429 Joan of Arc came to acknowledge him. While we only had one night there we timed it well with markets and what looked like a harvest festival.

Joan of Arc Place, just near our hotel

Joan of Arc statue

One of the many decorations for the harvest festival

Part of the harvest festival

Next we headed to the Loire valley where we decided to go see some Chateaux's. With so many options, we kept it to two...the Chateau D'Azay-le-Rideau - also known as the 'jewel of Renaissance architecture' and Chateau de Chenonceau. I can't add more to the descriptions other than just say the photo's are what really do them justice (see below). 

Chateau D'Azay-le-Rideau

Chateau D'Azay-le-Rideau

One of the grand fireplaces in the Chateau D'Azay-le-Rideau

The Indre river 

A gorgeous little cottage on the grounds of the Chateau de Chenonceau

Chateau de Chenonceau

Chateau de Chenonceau

Staying locally in the Loire valley, we found our own Chateau, the Chateau de Jallanges near Vouvray. And for those people that have asked or are going to ask... no it wasn't haunted.

Our welcome to the Chateau de Jallanges

The Chateau de Jallanges. 

Driving further South West we found ourselves in the Lot region. And for the rest of the week we stayed in a lovely country house near a town called Montcuq. In between relaxing in the clean and peaceful countryside, a long way away from traffic jams in Blighty, we found time to check out some of the local wineries such as the 500 year old Chateau Lagrezette. I would definately recommend visiting this winery, they were extremely helpful and had a great selection of wines.

Chateau Lagrezette

This beautiful Chateau sits just near the winery

I do like France and I like the fact these places in Europe are so close to. A little tip for those of you trying out France for the first time, take a phrase book because the French certainly don't like to speak english.

Now I'm off to the gym to try and work off some more of those croissants I over indulged in.
Bye!

My First Red Velvet Cake

Red Velvet cake is as it sounds, a lusciously moist deep red cake layered with a cream cheese icing. 

Are you hungry yet?

I found this recipe in one of the cake magazines I've been collecting (picture below).   The base was quite easy, it uses a lot of red colouring so make sure you have a good quality one else you'll be pouring the whole thing into your cake. The other tip... have enough cake tins so you don't have to re-use them and re-line each time. Thankfully I had three 10 inch cake tins handy.

The icing was something I've seen while perusing the local cake shops. It is time consuming but very effective .My tips... crumb coat your cake and create a smooth base before you start. Use disposable piping bags and just trim the tip off the end until you get the right size. 

To get this effect you need to pipe large dots up the cake and alternate the colours by one. Using a clean palate knife smooth out one side of the dot and make sure you clean your knife as you go.

Now what to do with the rest of the cake.... Might have to take it into work.

Happy baking!