Self=image

Self-image is not an easy topic for me to discuss, but it is one that I have been faced with a lot recently. I have been bombarded with news articles about it and faced with it whenever I look in the mirror.

I have always had weight problems. At first, when I was young, I was significantly underweight. I was accused by classmates and teachers of being anorexic, and my parents seemed to feel the same way to some extent. I had no appetite, and the small amount of food that I did eat they tended to encourage. Nevermind the fact that it was terribly bad for me, as long as I was eating, it was fine.

Then, when I hit my teenage years and my appetite started to grow along with my figure, at first it was a relief. The change happened to come at the same time as a change in school, and the feeling was that the weight-gain came from somewhere in between happiness at my new surroundings and just growing up in general. My metabolism was changing, and at first it was seen as a good thing. A great thing in fact! I remember bragging to my sister that I had finally put on weight, and she didn't believe me! And putting on weight was something to brag about at that stage. It meant that I was getting healthy. It meant, in my mind, no more mocking and no more accusations.

What I didn't realise at that point was that the weight gain was not all going to be good. While eating whatever I wanted was fine when I was eating hardly anything at all, the weight gain meant that eating whatever I wanted whenever I wanted should have been off the cards. And yet, I had grown so used to eating whatever I pleased that dieting was not something that formed a part of my vocabulary. I had grown used to eating meals that were not necessarily good for me, and succumbing to any cravings that I had. I would not let my body hold me back from what I wanted, under the impression that I would rather be over-weight and happy than under-weight and unhappy.

And I think this is where the biggest problem came in. I had started associating my weight with my emotions. The times in my life when I had been at my lowest weight were also the times when I was at my lowest emotionally. I wanted to avoid that at all costs, and food became a means of reaching this end.

It is now many years later, and my weight is a rollercoaster. I have hypo-thyroidism, which does not help (and nor does my phobia of needles for getting my thyroid checked regularly), but my diet is still all over the place. I am a stress-eater, and I consider my job to be stressful. I am not a smoker, I am not a huge coffee drinker, and this means that when I stress, I use food to cope, and I eat badly.

I look in the mirror and I often wonder how I got to be this way. I try to lose weight, but as soon as an obstacle comes along, I tend to falter in its path. I think part of the problem is that I have a low self-image. While Grant can look at me and say that I am sexy, I look at myself and do not feel it. And I don't think that is something that is going to be shed with weight-loss. When I was overseas and had lost over 10kg in weight over a matter  of months, I still felt over-weight, I still felt like it was not good enough. And when you have that mindset, no amount of weight is ever going to be good enough. At that point,  you have to take a deeper look at yourself and wonder whether your weight-loss or -gain is the real aim, or is there something else about yourself that needs to change - whether it be  your attitude, your lifestyle or your way of coping with things.

To me, I think that I could do with a change in all aspects. I have a very negative way of looking at the world, I live a lazy lifestyle and I do not cope with stress well (screaming and eating being only two of the signs that I am having a bad day) and those are things that are not going to fix themselves with weight-loss. Those are things that may lead to me being happier as a person and happier with myself, and I think that is a good start on the way to having both a healthy body and a healthy mind.

Festival Localised

Just as there are advantages and disadvantages to everything in life, there are advantages and disadvantages to being a Grahamstown local during Fest. There are things that I love and there are things that I hate, and it is hard to decide whether this time of year is one of my favourites or one of my worst.

What makes this time of year amazing is the atmosphere that fills the town. It feels like a two-week celebration. All of the things that I dislike about Grahamstown the rest of the year suddenly make their way here. There is food galore. There is entertainment in the form of music, plays, shows and fairgrounds. Town becomes electric and I love it!

What makes it terrible is that the thing that I do love about Grahamstown become ruined. The peaceful quiet of a small town gets lost in the manic hubbub of festival goers. Traffic lines the streets making it nearly impossible to find a parking anywhere and, living on the outskirts of town, this makes partaking in any festival activities pretty darn difficult! Peppergrove becomes nightmarish and I find myself wanting to curl up in bed and not leave because I don't want to face the horror of it all. And yet, you can't help but want to participate in the madness!

So this weekend, Grant, Jono and I decided to brave the Fest Grounds at the Village Green. Though this is not where the magic of the shows themselves happen, this is the centre of all things Fest and may be considered by some to be utter chaos and by others to be heavenly. I tend to gravitate towards the middle of these two opinions and see it as part good, part bad and mostly pretty average. The grounds are filled with tents, and the tents are filled with shops selling odds and ends - clothing, toys, novelties and food. But, of course you have to get into the grounds to experience these!

The first problem that we had was finding parking. The parking during Fest is awful. Absolutely terrible. Last year we managed to find a spot early on, but despite arriving at what I thought was a decent time, the paid parking lot was full, as was the area surrounding it, as was campus and we finally got lucky enough to find a parking on Somerset Street a short walk away. And when I say that we got lucky, it was literally the only parking I could spot in the vicinity and we almost missed it!

I must say that the food that comes to Grahamstown during Fest is probably my favourite part of the whole experience, and the Village Green is where you can find most of the good stuff. Chinese, Indian, Greek, you name it, they've got it! And this was the main purpose of our coming to the Green. Lunch! We wandered between the food stalls before deciding on a three-course menu. First up was Chinese as our main with smoothies to wash it down with.

I am a big fan of Chinese food! I am the advocate for Chinese food in Grahamstown, and I have never been more determined that Grahamstown should have a Chinese restaurant than I was after eating the Chinese at Fest. And that is not because it is amazing. Sadly, the food itself was pretty average - way too oily, way too generic. Not bad, but not very good either. And that was kind of the point. Even though it was just average Chinese, I was still wallowing in the joy of having it! Grahamstown needs a good Chinese place so that this is not the standard for the locals.

The smoothies, on the other hand, were pretty great. I love smoothies and I am determined that Grahamstown should also have a place that makes them. It shouldn't be too difficult to do! I know that Kauai is pretty much off the cards for a small student town, and the smoothies from Fest did not compare, but they were great and were perfect and I would have one on a daily basis if they were available to me! But they are not, sadly. And so I will make do with returning at some point during the Fest and having another.

With Chinese and smoothies in our bellies, we decided to walk around for a bit and see what else was on offer. There were books, but the book stall was not nearly as exciting as last year. I found a wonderful hat stall which sold incredible, steam-punky hats... for R1,800.00. They informed me that they would be bringing in more next week for around R400.00, but even that is beyond my price range! There were beautiful clocks and kaleidoscopes and so many wonderful things that made me ooh and aah!

And then there were the nuts. The greatest thing about Fest in my opinion. Of all the food, the nuts are the things that drive me mad! So, of course, these wonderful, caramelised, cinnamoned drops of goodness had to be mine. R30.00 bought me a small bag full of them, and though it is quite steep, it is also totally worth it! Another thing that I will definitely be returning for.

And finally, we ended off our trip to the Greens with a stop at Wicked Waffles. The smell was enough to bring us in, the idea of alcohol-infused cream was enough to keep us there. One bite was enough for us to know that it had probably been a bad idea and the price convinced us that it was a terrible one. The waffles themselves I found to be pretty average, nothing special. The cream was ridiculous! I am not all that good with my alcohol and find everything to be strong, but even Grant thought it was way too much, like taking a shot of Vodka with every bite. And at R35.00 each for a small waffle, it is not worth your while. I wouldn't recommend them.

And so our Village Green experience ended on a bit of a bad note. We finished our waffles and made our way back to the car, pretty keen to get out of the crowds. But I know that I will be back there next week again! As chaotic as it can be, I don't think that there is anything that can stop me. And that is the joy of Fest! It is a wonderous, terrifying time that we just cannot help but enjoy!

What do other locals think?

Memory of Water

Tonight came close to being a good night. And, in fact for awhile it was! I got to go to an amazing show, I got to spend time with Grant and I had a nice dinner. And then it failed.

But let me start from the beginning. I got to go to an amazing show! It is one of the few shows that I am going to this fest (unlike last year when I had a plan practically every night). And I will admit from the outset that I may be a little biased about it - it was directed by a good friend after all. But that is no reason to let the awesomeness slide. I didn't know what to expect from The Memory of Water. I had read the summary of course, but you know summaries - they don't tell you very much. I even convinced Grant that he had to come along. It took a little persuading, but he relented, especially after I bought him his ticket.

And so, at 17:45 we made our way to NG Kerk Saal to go and see The Memory of Water, directed by Deborah Robertson. I had a little trouble getting in (booking through Computicket and collecting the tickets at the door is not a good plan) but we managed with some time to spare and took our seats towards the middle of the room. Two of the actors stayed on stage while people found their seats, one sleeping while the other smoked to add to the atmosphere that the play was to provide. And then it started.

From the first few lines, I was intrigued. And I stayed that way throughout the play. There wasn't a moment of boredom, there wasn't a moment where I thought that it might have been running to long, there wasn't a moment where I regretted going to the show. The acting was superb, the timing was perfect and, even when things went wrong like the set falling over halfway during the show, they didn't skip a beat as the eldest sister exclaimed "Old house!" and they continued with the script. It was funny, it was poignant, it was heartwrenching and it was amazing. I left smiling and filled with warmth, and I would recommend that everyone snatch up the opportunity to see the show before it finishes on Saturday.

Once the play was over, it was time to grab some dinner. Grant wanted to catch the football, so there was no chance of heading home to cook. So we decided to go to the Albany Club. We tend to go there occasionally for lunch and we knew that they would be open for dinner during fest, they are usually quick and make decent meals, so we decided that would be the place to go. We arrived and quickly found a seat. We had been hoping for a table in the bar area since it is warmer and more lively, but no such luck. Nonetheless, we got a table and settled down for a nice meal. The menu was pretty much the same as it always is - typical pub meals of burgers, calamari, chops, etc. with a few Fest additions like Kudu steaks and Butter Chicken. Grant decided to take advantage of the festival and go for the kudu, while I decided on the calamari. The food was decent and came fairly quickly and I was looking forward to dessert when Grant saw the time out of the corner of his eye and realised that he had to run. Which was fine. I ordered the bill as he ran out of the door and waited for it to come. And waited. And waited some more. A table came in and sat down next to me, ordered, got their food and I was still waiting. The other table finished their meal, got the bill and left and I waited. Finally my waiter came in and asked if I wanted the bill because it seemed that my partner wasn't coming back. To which I responded, with frustration. "Yes, I want that bill. That's why I asked for it 25 minutes ago!" Five minutes later he came back with it, and then left. I waited five more minutes before deciding that it was enough and walking through to the kitchen to pay. My waiter found me there and brought over the card machine. Only to say, "I don't know how to do this". It is not rocket science. Once one of the managers had rung it up, he then handed me both the slip for the restaurant and the one that I am supposed to keep. It boggles my mind.

Anyway, I was more than a little annoyed after this, and I made my way to PnP only to park in front of someone who appeared to be taking some coke in front of my car, not wanting to move out of the way which, though not directly affecting me, still pissed me off even further.

So no, despite a wonderful play and a decent dinner, I am sad to say that it has not been a good night. Here's hoping that tomorrow will be better!

Breaking the Bad Habits

I hate calorie (or kilojoule) counting. I hate it with a passion. I don't like being around people who do it and whenever I find myself doing it, it feels like I become an annoying, overbearing, obsessive person, and I don't like that feeling. And yet, I have found myself doing a lot of it lately.

I am trying my damndest to be healthy lately. And I could say that it is because my friends and I have a contest going on where the person to lose the most weight by the 20th will be winning a wad of cash. But I don't think that is quite it either. Sure, the contest gave me some incentive to get started, incentive that was definitely needed! But a couple of nights before it was suggested, I was sitting in bed and, inexplicably, I was crying. I just couldn't stop it. The tears were just leaking out of me unprovoked. I'd had a bad day, and it culminated into a bad week, month and year so far with everything that has gone wrong just taking over in my mind. And there have been quite a few things going wrong. Not that things are dreadful, but you know how it happens - you start obsessing about something bad and all of the other bad things come to mind and take over completely until you can't think of anything else. And a big contribution towards that was my weight.

My weight has always been very up and down. It was way down when I was young, and then I hit puberty and it shot up. Around the age of 17, I started getting it back down, and then around 20 it started creeping up again. At age 22, during my year in Korea, I got it back down to where I was fairly comfortable with it (sure, I still wanted to lose some weight, but I was a good 10 kgs lighter than when I had arrived). And then I came back to Grahamstown. And in one year it all came back, bringing its friends along to join in the fun.

I know that weight is not the be-all and end-all of life. I know that being thin does not make you happy. I know that indulging every whim doesn't either. But I also know that exercise releases endorphins, and I know that being comfortable with your body does make you more comfortable in general. I know that I would feel a lot less awkward about going out if I didn't have to try on five different outfits, all of which I feel are completely unflattering.

And so I am one week in. I am dieting, but not crash-dieting. I like to think of it less as dieting in fact and more as changing my eating habits for good. I am trying to cut down on wheat, since I suspect that my thyroid isn't a big fan of it. And speaking of my thyroid, I am trying my best to take my thyroid medication. Everyday. Which I am usually pretty darn bad at. I am also trying to eat breakfast everyday. And I am exercising. I went walking and jogging every day last week and, despite the weather turning bad, I intend to keep at it.

So, there is a new section that you can expect to see in my blog, and that is things that I have been eating. And for the first segment:

Chicken Salad
Italian minestrone and rye bread
Rice cakes with lettuce and tuna
Rice cakes with fat free cottage cheese and lemon chicken
Grilled chicken, salad and baked potato
Portuguese grilled chicken with mixed veg and mint rice
Baked fish with lemon, mixed veg and bakes potato
Turkey and avocado on rye
Fat free vanilla yoghurt
Original rice crackers with fat free cottage cheese
Celery and fat freee cottage cheese
One breakfast rusk with my one cup of coffee in the morning

Vacation in the Cape

I have a belief, and raise your hand (or like/comment/post/something) if you share it - a holiday isn't a good one unless you come back exhausted.

I know, I know. People have this notions that holidays should be relaxing. My dad has this notion. When he is on holiday, he is happy to just stay in the hotel all day reading the newspaper and (possibly) lounging by the pool. I, on the other hand, seem to take after my mom - trying to fit in as much as I can in as little time as possible. Sure, I can spend a day relaxing, but any more than that and I just get bored and agitated, wanting to do things.

My Cape Town holiday is no different, and I tried to make it as fun-packed as possible. I bustled into town on Thursday afternoon for a short five day trip and intended to make the most of it. Of course, Thursday was pretty much a write-off. I arrived at 16:20 and it was around 5pm when I finally made my way out with my bags in tow. Just enough time to get home, greet the cats, chat with mom, go for a walk and head out to Chinese at Reddies with mom, dad and Michael. By the time I came home, Cherie was back with her visiting boyfriend and we caught up briefly before I decided that it was time to hit the hay.

Friday started off fairly early with Cherie and I dropping mom at gym and then making our way to Tygervalley. Not particularly keen for a shopping trip, I elected to stay in the car and make Cherie do the running around while I planned the rest of my day. By the time she returned (empty-handed), it was time to pick mom up again and make our way into town for the facials that mom had planned. I am not a person who particularly likes having my face touched and examined, but it was quite a relaxing hour and a half. The only part that I did not enjoy was having a mask that was two inches thick plastered onto my face and covering my mouth and eyes. I have never thought of myself as being claustrophobic, but I certainly felt it then! Once that was done, it was a stop at Kauai for a quick lunch before I had my mom drop me at the Adelphi centre in Sea Point. There I met up with Ryan and we took a short walk to his apartment before starting to pack it all into boxes. Yes, I chose to spend my holiday helping someone move, and I have no regrets. I got to see Ryan, and I felt really productive thereafter. Certainly not bored! After moving, Ryan took myself and the two other assistants out for a nice Italian dinner (gnocchi bolognaise for me) before dropping me back at my parents' house in Welgemoed.

I woke up nice and early on Saturday and spent much of the morning in a state of exuberance as I waited for Robyn to pick me up. We had ahead of us a day of catching up and chatting and just general enjoying each others company. We walked around the Slow Market in Willowbridge, had a lovely brunch at Woolies, a cup of coffee at the cafe that her sister works out (which included much mocking of a particular waitress in a teasing fashion) and then headed back to her place (in her new car!) to just have a proper catch up. By late afternoon it was time to head back home and get ready for the braai that was to come. It is traditional whenever I come and visit that the family get together for a braai. It meant that I got to see everyone, even if it was only for a little while, and hear the news and not have anyone feeling left out. It is also a great excuse for a good meal, and we had an awesome one. Once most of the family had left, I stayed up a little later chatting away to Jade and her husband Eric and hearing what was happening in their world. But unfortunately, I had to retire early as I was on medication that had a tendency of making me feel both nauseous and exhausted, a combination that tends to make for bad company.

Sunday was my day for sleeping in, and that I did! Until 8:30!! It was awesome. Then I woke up and started getting ready for the day. Another family tradition is going out for Sunday breakfasts, and the two favourite places are Franschoek and Claremont. As the family had been to Franschoek the week before with Cherie, it was decided that the Gardener's Cottage in Claremont was the place to go. We made our way there (mom, dad, Michael, Cherie and I) and had a lovely breakfast at the restaurant before making our way around the nursery. I'd had plans to have a movie-day with Ryan at my parents', but he had to change it to coffee instead, and he picked myself and Natasha (who was to join for the movie) up and took us to Tygervalley were we got some terrible service at Oppie Koffie. Thankfully, the company made up for it, and we had a good afternoon chatting and laughing away. When Ryan had to leave, Natasha and I made our way to the cinema where we booked three tickets for Midnight in Paris. Michael joined us for the movie and it turned out to be a lovely one! I will have to write a review at some point. After the movie, we made our way home, had a light dinner of leftovers from the braai and had an early night.

Monday was a particularly busy day, as it was essentially half a day spent enjoying myself and half a day spent travelling. It started early with taking my mom to gym, stopping in at the chemist to get pills for mom and dad and stopping in at my aunt's new shop to take some photos. From there it was a rush to the giant sports shop beside Tygervalley to get some running shoes (a job in itself considering how many people had decided that the Monday before school was the day to go uniform and sports good shopping), a stop at home to pick up Cherie and a dash to the airport. We got there on time and I was checked in with time to spare for some lunch, so we decided to go to Mugg and Bean, since it was the closest and healthiest place around. A bad idea if ever there was one. The service was terrible and slow, and I ended up having to scoff down what I could in 5 minutes before jumping up and hoofing it through security. I made it through, but not before being called by the announcer. This could have been highly embarrassing, but they pronounced my name wrong (as they always do) and so I felt far more worse for any Ms Solomon's in the building. An hour and a half later, I walked out of the airport and met Ashlea who took me to my car and I was back on my way to Grahamstown. Usually I drive as fast as possible to get back as soon as possible, but I'd heard that there were a huge number of policemen hiding on the road, so I tried my best to stick to the speed limit and made it in just over an hour and a half.

And so, my holiday completed, I arrived at my house and practically collapsed on the bed. It was the best sleep that I have had in ages. Imagine just how good the holiday must have been!

Deck the Halls!

I love this time of the year, and I know that is a little weird what with me being Jewish and all, but it is true. Christmas always brings back the best memories – decorating the Christmas tree with Granny Ellen, baking (and eating) mince pies and Christmas pudding, Christmas lunches with Uncle Ashley and my mom’s side of the family and, on the few occasions that I haven’t been home, spending Christmas with friends.

This year, Grant and I are staying in Grahamstown, which means that we aren’t going to be with our families. Our friends are spreading out around the country to celebrate with their own families, some going to Zimbabwe or Cape Town and others just visiting nearby Boknes. Even Jono (our housemate) is travelling to Limpopo to be with his family, leaving Grant and I on our own! This will be a first for me. But we weren’t going to let that get us down! All that it really meant is that we had to celebrate Christmas earlier than usual this year, while our friends and family are around!

This last week has been the week of Christmas for us. The festivities started on Wednesday with a Christmas/Birthday dinner at Mike and Vicky’s. Vicky has always seen her birthday as the start of the Christmas season, since it was only after her birthday that her family started putting up the trees and decorations and started getting ready for Christmas proper. So what better time to celebrate the festive season than with a Birthday dinner including all of the Christmas favourites? Well, some of the favourites and some of their own modern twists! Dinner kicked off with homemade sushi which was followed by a turkey-sized chicken, gammon, roasted sweet potatoes and veg. Once we were all filled to the brim, it was Secret Santa time and we unwrapped gifts galore before finishing off the night with some mince pies and custard. Yum!

With Friday being a public holiday, Thursday became the Friday of the week and we were all in great moods by the end of the day. Grant was in a particularly good mood as his dad and stepmom were arriving on Thursday evening. A little shuffling was in order as Jono’s sister was also staying with us at the time, but with a ton of space in the new house it was no problem getting everything in order! Natalie moved into what will soon be Grant’s bar and Grant’s dad moved into our Study with Sharon. Everything was back in order and our long weekend began with a trip to the driving range where Rob, Grant, Jono, Natalie and I swung away at golf balls. It has been way too long since I last did this and I was completely out of practice – picture balls bouncing in every direction but at the course – but by the end of it I was back in the swing of things and balls were flying into the distance (though not nearly as far as Rob’s, Grant’s and Jono’s. Clearly I need more practice.) Having had a late breakfast of scrambled eggs, no one was particularly hungry at lunch time, but we made up for it by having a homemade lasagne dinner which was delicious as always.

Saturday dawned nice and early as Sharon and I had to drive Jono and Natalie to PE airport stopping for some coffee, some shopping and a Nanaga break on our way. When we arrived back, I was surprised by a small LED Christmas tree together with decorations that Grant and his dad had bought just for me! I spent a good portion of the afternoon decorating it and presents were then brought out of the woodwork and put beneath it. Saturday has become Grant’s favourite day for a braai (we have had one every week since we arrived at the new house and even had two on the weekend that we arrived thanks to a power outage) and this one was no exception. Mike and Vicky came over and an abundance of meat ensued – chicken sosaties, kudu steaks and wors – with the potato and table salads becoming the fillers. But Saturday was nothing compared to what was to come on Sunday!

With Grant’s family down for the weekend, we decided to take the opportunity to have our own Christmas celebrations by having a Christmas lunch. Or what was supposed to be a Christmas lunch and ended up being a Christmas linner (lupper? lunner? sunch? dinch?) The day started nice and early with everyone waking up at 8 and starting on the dishes from the braai so that we could have something to cook with. With dishes ready, Grant started preparing the turkey. And my God was it a big one. So big that we weren’t sure that it was going to fit into our teeny tiny oven. Which it thankfully did. The gammon that we bought was also pre-cooked, which meant that we didn’t have to worry about that having to go into the oven. What we did have to worry about were the potatoes, stuffing and veg, all of which did require oven and stove-top cooking in an oven that could barely fit the turkey on its own and a stove that could only have two plates on while the oven was going. Not fun. Preparations were also halted when Grant sent his dad out to get toothpicks that were essential for the turkey cooking and his dad ended up getting distracted and chatting in the street for an hour while we waited for the toothpicks to arrive. 

Nonetheless, dinner was ready by 4 and it was certainly a great one! Our linner of turkey, gammon, stuffing, roast potatoes, carrots and cauliflower was followed by pressie opening which in turn was followed, a good while later, by dessert of mince pies, Christmas pudding and fruit cake with custard and ice cream. Of course, the ice cream was all that anyone wanted to eat since Sunday ended up being an absolute scorcher of a day, and by the time it was all over I was ready to collapse into a food coma. It is now almost 24 hours later and I am still full!

And so, our Christmas celebrations have come to an end. Grant and I are still looking forward to celebrating actual Christmas together, but the big gespiel has been completed and we are looking forward to a relaxing Christmas day rather than a rushed frenzy of food.

Here’s hoping that everyone else’s Christmas is as merry as our early one and looking forward to speaking to and seeing you all in the new year!

Lemon

The rush of the unexpected taste fills my mouth and makes me salivate involuntarily. For a moment it is all that I can taste before it mingles with the saltiness and sweetness, becoming a good halfway between the two, muting them and bringing them together at the same time.

I love lemon. I am not one of those people who can eat it straight, biting into it. My taste buds are far too sensitive for that. But I certainly love cooking with it, and find it to be a good ingredient to cook with. I tend to use it often, probably too often for the liking of my housemates who have to endure my cooking!

One of my favourite things to do is to replace oil with lemon when I am cooking chicken. It works just as well, but gives the chicken a lemon flavour and is far healthier. What I tend to do is squeeze some lemon juice into a pan, sprinkle in a fair amount of Italian herbs and then fry the chicken up with the herbs and lemon, leaving out the oil bit. Forget Nando's chicken and herb. I far prefer my own :) Once the chicken is "fried" I either roll it up in a tortilla with lettuce and tomato, or I add some veggies into the pan and make a quick stir fry. Each way provides healthy alternatives to the regular chicken dishes that I used to cook. Plus it is far tastier.

There is also another recipe that I have not tried since my uni days, but used to work well enough then. I would place some lemon juice into a bowl and marinade the chicken in the juice before placing it in the oven on grill for 10-15 minutes, turning every 5 minutes ago. What I ended up with was lovely juicy chicken breasts, bursting with flavour and perfectly tender. I usually served that with either baked potatoes or mash.

You can expect to see quite a few of these kinds of food tips over the next few weeks, since I am now participating in a challenge issued by one of my "Korean" friends (aka. friend who I met in Korea who is not actually Korean) involving a healthier lifestyle in terms of both cooking and exercise. I am not convinced about the exercise, since I can hardly get myself to cook when I come home from work being utterly exhausted and all, but I can certainly try to cook as often and possible, and when I am not the one cooking, I can get Grant to do the cooking for me, and get him to cook as healthily as possible.

Unfortunately, I already see a problem day in the horizon, since the girls are coming over on Saturday night for home made cocktails, and you know that is going to involve more than a few calories. I only found out about the challenge after I had arranged the cocktail evening though, and it is something that I have been trying to arrange for at least a month and a half, so there can be no backing out now! Oh well, cest la vie!!

Cooking Up a Crumble

It has been a long while since I last posted here, but I thought that I had better do so today before I lose out.

You see, I have a friend in Cape Town whose name is Tandy. I believe that she is a wonderful cook, though I have never tasted any of her cooking, because she has a food blog with recipes that make my mouth water. Her blog is called Lavender and Lime and can be found here.

In any case, Tandy is running a baking competition where the winner will get a cassis rectangular bake set from Le Creuset. For those of you who don't know what Le Creuset is, I don't particularly blame you. Until a few years ago, I had no idea! And then I went to see Julie & Julia, a wonderful movie that follows the life of Julia Child and Julie Powell's attempts a recreating her recipes. It turns out that Julia Child was a big fan of Le Creuset bakeware. And so are a number of other people that I know of, including Tandy and Lynne, another family friend. So when I heard about the giveaway, I knew that I would have to get involved. Sure, it wasn't likely that I would win the prize, but I wasn't going to let the opportunity pass me by!

The competition involved baking something and, not being particularly good at baking myself or having very much experience with it, I decided to go for something simple to start off with. Grant suggested Apple Crumble, since it is one of his favourite desserts. So, apple crumble it was to be! I scoured my cookbooks for a recipe, and when they failed me, I went online and found one that I liked the sound of. With the recipe scrawled down, off I went to the shops to get the ingredients for it:

FILLING
1/2 cup castor sugar
1 tsp ground cinnamon

CRUMBLE
1 cup plain flour
3/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup rolled oats
3/4 cup coconut
1 tbs ground cinnamon
2 tsp ground nutmeg
1/3 cup melted butter
Apple juice
2 tbs vanilla essence

EXTRAS
Whipped cream

You may notice one gaping whole in this list of ingredients, and that is apples. That is because buying apples for Grant is a very difficult process - he only likes Granny Smiths, and that seems to be the one kind that the Grahamstown Pick n Pay never seems to stock. So, instead of buying apples and boiling them down myself only to have Grant upset with me, I chose to get a can of apples to replace it with, and Grant was thrilled with my decision. So, I used a large tin of canned apples instead of the 7 apples that the recipe recommended. If you are going to do the apples yourself, make sure to set aside the juice that comes from out of them for later.

Once your apples (canned or stewed/boiled/however you like to do them) are ready, combine the castor sugar and 1 tsp of cinnamon, mix well and toss through the apples. Place the apple mix evenly in a medium casserole dish and set it aside for later.



To start the crumble, combine the flour, brown sugar, oats, coconut, cinnamon and nutmeg in a large bowl and mix thoroughly.





Now you can start to melt the butter, and this is where I started to deviate from the recipe slightly on the advice of some comments that I had found on the recipe. The recipe recommended a 2/3 cup of butter, but some people recommended using only 1/3 butter and mixing in the leftover apple juice. Not having made the apples myself, I bought some apple juice and added a swig of it to the butter once it was melted. Also add the vanilla essence to the butter and apple juice and mix them together.

Add the butter mix to the dry ingredients and mix well. The recipe recommended a fork, but I found using my hands to be a lot quicker and easier. Ensure that all of the ingredients are moist and the mixture has a crumbly texture.





Spread the crumble evenly over the apple mixture and bake in a preheated oven at 180'C for 30-40 minutes or until the crumble is slightly browned.





We chose to serve the crumble with whipped cream, but it can also be served with ice cream or custard. One person even suggested putting Nestle Treat over the top, an idea that I found intriguing, but which Grant quickly vetoed. I will have to try it another time.




Either way, the dessert went down an absolute treat. The friends that came over for dinner on the night that I made it did nothing but wow over it, each of them having seconds (even our neighbour's son who hardly ate any dinner at all). So if that isn't a success, I don't know what is.



I made a second one a couple of nights later, as we had tons of extra ingredients, and I followed the recipe exactly the second time - using a 2/3 cup of butter and no apple juice, and I definitely think that the apple juice was an improvement on the recipe. I highly recommend it. Unfortunately, all of the photos were taken at night in a badly lit kitchen and are examples of the non-juice version. However you make it, ENJOY!

Cooking

Anyone who has come into contact with me over the last year or so would be shocked to hear me say this, but I love cooking. That is not to say that I am very good at it, nor is it to say that I do it often. But on the occasion that I do, I absolutely love it!

One of the things that I missed over my year in Korea was being able to cook. Sure, I had a mini-kitchen decked out with pots, pans and a hub of two stove tops; sure, there was a grocery store or three up the road from my house; but cooking for one just isn't the same as cooking for others. When it came down to it, ordering in or eating out was just so much easier and, in the end, so much cheaper as I never ended up eating the leftovers that I ended up with after cooking for myself.

One of the first things I requested for when I came home was a home-cooked meal. Of course, I never got it, but that doesn't take anything away from the point that I am trying to make – a hard-earned meal that has been cooked through blood, sweat and tears just tastes so much better than something that requires as little effort as phoning the pizza-place and reciting your address and phone number.

Now that I am home with a world of cooking-equipment and groceries at my fingers, I am already contemplating all the meals that I am looking forward to cooking. In fact, I have put together a list made from my recently acquired cookbooks (click here to see it). I highly doubt that I will cook all of these dishes over the next year, as I only intend to do the cooking about twice a week and will not always want something so rich or so expensive, but I do intend to get through the list over the next few years. So check it out and if you see something that you would like to try, let me know – maybe I will make it the next time you visit!

So my question for you today is twofold: which of those recipes do you most want to try and what is your favourite recipe?

Time for a Treat?

Treat Cafe in Hertex design studio
Durbanville
Cape Town

“They're so pretty!”

Deep brown sugar smothered upon decadent chocolate cake; buttery icing sitting atop another spotted with dark poppy seeds. speckled eggs sprinkled across a third cake oozing spice and another beside it bleeding red. It took all I had not to just whip out my camera right then and there.

“Can I help you?” I gave the woman beside me the briefest of up-and-downs, taking in her lime-green and black striped shirt and wondering where she might have gotten it. This was our waitress? I thought she was a customer.

“Do you have a table for two?”

Looking around the room at the tables filled with women sipping cappuccinos and sharing gossip, it didn't seem likely. Evidently Treat is a popular place for the middle-aged gossipy women of Durbanville, but our waitress didn't skip a beat.

“There's one at the front of house if you don't mind sitting there.”

We weren't there to socialise anyway.

“That will be perfect.”

We were quickly shown to our seats - a table, a good way away from the rest of the cafe, that I had thought was part of the display when I'd walked in. Hidden amidst the comfortable-looking couches and the swabs of patterned material that lined the wall of Hertex design studio, placed directly beneath a chandelier that looked like something out of a hotel, we sat ourselves down and waited for our menus. I took advantage of the first few minutes to grab my camera, as I am prone to do, and shoot away. But when, a few minutes later, I sat down again, we still had no menus.

“Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.”

We'd been seated for a good five minutes longer before the waitress remembered us.

“Are you ready to order?”

“No. We need menus.”

“Oh.” A flush of pink came over her cheeks and she rushed back to the cafe entrance to fetch us some. We didn't have a problem with her service again.

Looking at the menu, I couldn't help but wonder how much everything was going to cost. When a 170ml can of apple iced tea cost R17, I wasn't holding out too much hope for a cheap meal. But that wasn't going to stop me. I was a girl on a mission.

The food arrived quickly, beautifully presented, and we dug in only to discover that there was nothing special to it. Not bad, but nothing to go out of your way for either. But then, this wasn't a restaurant, not somewhere you would go for a lunch – this was a cafe, a place for tea and cake, and the cake was what had brought us here in the first place. Those beautiful cakes that had wowed me at the start. Nevermind the mediocre lunch, it could be overlooked as long as the cakes tasted as good as they looked.

We ate as much of the lunch as we could, neither of us cleaning our plates, and prepared ourselves for the glory that was awaiting us. What would it be? Chocolate? Lemon meringue? Red velvet? No, no. We decided to share two slices so that we could get a taste of each – the intriguingly decorated cinnamon cake and my favourite lemon-poppy. Minutes later, the slices were placed before us and we held our forks in awe before finally digging in. There was a moment's silence as we chewed. Revered silence perhaps?

“Does yours taste like butter?”

I nodded in agreement, the taste filling my mouth and suffocating any other. Our first impression didn't improve over the next few bitefuls. Eventually we gave up on the cakes, not finishing them either and decided to pay and leave before we could be disappointed by anything else.

“That will be R165.”

I fished around in my wallet for some cash and walked quickly through the beautifully decorated cafe to the exit. I couldn't get there quick enough.