Onion Rings

If I had just found out that today would be my last day on Earth I would be just slightly preoccupied with what I would enjoy for my last meal. I love food and there are so many meals that I would consider to be my favourite; Roast Chicken, Chocolate Cake, Shepherds Pie, Sticky Date Pudding, Apple Pie, Green Thai Curry....I could go on forever. There is one meal however that I would go to the ends of the earth for and it is the meal I would choose if my hours were numbered, (surprise, surprise it isn't a dessert!) My Last supper would be a enormous T-bone steak with mushroom & pepper sauce and onion rings. Oh yum! I'm drooling just thinking about it!

I love a beautifully cooked T-Bone and I love crispy, crunchy onion rings alongside. Here is my favourite recipe adapted from how my Mum makes them.....

Onion Rings
1 1/2 Cups Plain Flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
Pinch of salt
1 x 375ml bottle of beer
Vegetable Oil
2-3 Medium onions, cut into rings and separated
Extra salt to season.

Combine flour, baking powder and salt in a bowl. Whisk in beer until the batter is smooth.

Add enough oil in a large saucepan, deep-sided fry pan or wok to immerse your Onion rings in. Heat to 190C (place a tiny segment of bread or potato into the oil to test it - if it sizzles like crazy it's ready)

Dip the onions into the batter one at a time them place straight into the hot oil. Deep fry for several minutes until golden brown and crispy. Cook in several batches, changing the oil if you feel you need to ( I didn't bother, but I'm just lazy) Drain the rings on paper towels and then serve with lashings of salt and of course your massive T-Bone ( a nice, cold beer wouldn't go astray either)

If you had to choose your last supper what would it be?

Our Peaceful Olly

This morning, when I was woken up by our special little guy at some ungodly hour, I didn't send him back to bed as I usually do. I pulled him into bed next to me and snuggled up close to him, breathing in his gorgeous little boy smell, cuddling his warm little body. Today was a different day......Today I was going to make the most of stealing a few moments with my boy......Today our beautiful man is 5.

   When I was pregnant with Mr Gorgeous, Hubby and I were having a difficult time trying to come up with a name that we both liked. I had scoured every baby name book conceivable to mankind but still no joy. Then one day a name jumped out at me, a name I liked.....No, no, a name I suddenly loved.
    I had come across the name before - it's not like it's unusual - but this name had caught my attention,, it had reached out and grabbed me.....I adored it.

              Oliver   "Olly"
I also loved the meaning; "Peaceful".


Now at this stage I didn't even know if the baby we were having was a boy, I just knew that I had to have this name. I wrote it down everywhere; our house was covered in  little post it notes with 'Olly' written all over them....I drove Hubby nuts.


Then the big day arrived and he was here. Our Oliver, Our Olly, Our Peaceful one. He has certainly lived up to his name;  an easy adorable baby, a funny, cuddly toddler, a cheeky, sweet preschooler and now.....a big, clever school boy.


Happy 5th Birthday to our wonderful boy - we hope you have a magical day. xxx

Husband Appreciation.

Yes, you've read right. Appreciation. Not Husband slander. Not Husband emendation. No, Husband appreciation.

I think he deserves a post all of his own; between moaning about the trials and trivialities of bringing up four children and my immense dislike of the supermarket, he barely gets a look in. Poor bugger. Really, it's about time I gave him some air time, let him know that despite all the whinging I do, I really, really appreciate him.

Firstly he puts up with me. No mean feat I tell you now. For starters despite being a Stay at home Mum I don't really do much house work, so the house is kind of a permanent bomb site. I'm also a scatter-brain, airy fairy, likely to forget my own children....good thing they follow me everywhere. I'm sensitive, can fly off the handle at any given moment and I take everything and I mean everything he says literally. As you can tell, he has his work cut out for him.
     On his occasional day off work he rolls around playing with the kids. They think this is the best thing ever. They scream, yell & climb all over him, just as if he was a giant jumping-castle. They torment him all day - which is wonderful as the spotlight is off me and I can escape to the kitchen....or the computer....or a book.
Not only does he play, he also cleans. Weird, I know. He'll race around the house like a demented Doris Day, dusting, (what's that?) vacuuming, mopping, basically doing everything that I "should" be doing during the week.

My favourite thing is just hanging out with him. I love pottering around amicably on a Sunday. I love sitting up talking about nothing for ages. I love watching hours of Top Gear with him. I love thrashing him while playing the play station.

Best of all, he's on my side, in my corner, backing me up. He tells me I'm amazing, he thinks I'm really smart (go figure!) and he thinks I'm beautiful.

You know what? I find him pretty amazing too.

My Life.....in boxes.

Today, I'm packing. My house is full of boxes.......empty boxes ready to fill with stuff......boxes already filled with stuff. I'm packing up our life, our things, our memories. I'm compartmentalising the past four years, four years of accumulated joy, stress and love.
    When we were told we had to move I was excited. I was looking forward to a new start in a new house. I felt it was a good opportunity to cleanse and reassess our lives and decide where we wanted to go with our future. I was over, so over our shabby discombobulated house. But now, with three weeks left to find a place to live, nowhere seems good enough. We need to find a place to build new memories. A place for four children to grow, extend, flourish.
  
This house has been amazing. We arrived here when Mr (nearly) 5 was 10 months old. He learnt to walk in this house. I enjoyed my last pregnancy within these walls. We bought Miss 2 home from hospital here. She learnt to smile, laugh, roll, crawl, walk here. Miss 8 and Mr 4 had their first day at school and came home to tea & cookies in our kitchen. Mr 10 has grown, matured and achieved in this house. We came home, here from our wedding. We've had birthday's, Christmases, holidays, parties, games and joy here. The walls are permeated with the fabric of us. I love the odd layout, the large, airy rooms, the view over the mountains. I don't want to leave.

I walk through the rooms and pack up the photos of my smiling children. I pack up their toys and carefully fold their clothes. I know that wherever we go we will make new memories. That happiness will follow us as it always has done and that our new home will also be a place of joy.

Have you ever had a home, a place that you've always felt connected to? Is it where you are now or is it a place from your past?

A Wonderful Childhood

Today, for the first time in 10 years, I am going away for a girls weekend with my sisters. This is a momentous occasion as far as I'm concerned. For the past 10 years I've been busy "Being Mum" a really important job as anyone would concede, but I've also let my relationship with my "girls", my sisters fall into a little bit of neglect.
    This weekend it is time to re-establish this bond. A bond that we formed during our wonderful, safe and secure childhood.
We grew up in a family wrapped in love. Our parents adored each other and displayed it continually (usually to our eternal embarrassment) they rarely argued and always backed each other up. They were rock solid, unmovable, reliable in their love for us and in the rules and discipline that our home was founded on. We always knew where we stood, that we were loved for being ourselves and boy, oh boy did we know when we were in trouble. Me, being the eldest, always seemed to be knee deep in it.
   Although Mum & Dad were strict we seemed to have an inordinate amount of freedom. We played endlessly and we always played together. We would be outdoors from dawn to dusk and would reluctantly come inside when Mum would call us for dinner. Our adventures are wound up in the fabric of who we are, what we've become.

One of the most important things my parents always enforced was a strong sense of Family. We were amazingly close. We were taught to be best friends. We were taught to accept one another, despite all our idiosyncrasies, despite our differences.
  And it's incredible how different three sisters can be; I was always independent, bossy, the leader and forever in trouble. Miss Middle was stable, reliable, quiet, endearing. Miss Little was cheeky, naughty, funny and full of character.

I am so grateful for our childhood. I will always be thankful that my parents forged our relationships with one another so strongly. Because I grew up with two best friends who were always there for me and still are to this day. This weekend we will be together once more, the three of us, I'm looking forward to reflection, reconnection and that warm sense of belonging.

Lament of the Lost Boosies

When I was a teenager I had fabulous boobs. They were large, they were perky, they were the bane of my existence. Being around five foot tall and quite petite they dominated my whole body - a feature that several of the boys at school didn't fail to notice.....much to my dismay.
    What I wanted was to be inconspicuous, to put my head down a hole and wait out those mortifying and awkward teenage years. What I got was ridicule from some of the girls and points and snigger's from the pimply boys in the throes of hormone-crazed puberty.

My boosie wah-wahs were completely wasted on me. I hid them under daggy jumpers in the high heat of Summer. My shoulders were permanently slouched, I wore ghastly minimising sports bras.
   Now, I look back on photos of myself at around 15 or 16 and I feel a sense of loss. I lament the diminishing of my beautiful boobies.
Gravity, three pregnancies and years of breastfeeding have sent them to boobie damnation. They are showing their age - just like the rest of me. Heading south for the Winter, Spring, Summer and Autumn.
    Push-up bras are now my best friends. Low cut tops and clingy shirts are everyday items in my wardrobe. The years of hiding and pretending I don't have boobies like Pammy are far behind me. Now, they're all out for everyone to see.....too bad you need a damn magnifying glass to see anything.
  The days of having a fabulous decolletage may be over - it's really too bad that I didn't appreciate them when I had them - but with maturity and Motherhood has come an acceptance of who I am......tiny boosies and all.

Creamy Chicken Noodle Soup

I love the approach of Winter for one reason and one reason alone......warming, comforting, calorie-enriched food. There are so many beautiful and delicious things to be enjoyed at this time of year, pies, casseroles, chocolate cake, crumbles, bakes, chocolate cake, puddings, soups, and did I mention chocolate cake?
   One of my children's favourite dishes has to be chicken noodle soup. They don't get it very often however as I find it bland, dull, absolutely boring - and if I don't like it we don't eat it. But then I thought of a way in which I would positively LOVE to eat chicken noodle soup.........by adding lashings of cream of course!

Creamy Chicken Noodle Soup

Firstly I am going to encourage, cajole and plead with you to make your own stock. This will add so much flavour to your soup. Please, please, please give it a go, it tastes yummy and makes your house smell divine. I will begrudgingly acknowledge that some Campbells Real Stock may do the job and you will still end up with some fairly nice soup. If you use crumbled stock cubes, however, I will never forgive you.

Stock;

You will need either a BBQ chicken for this recipe or even better leftover roast chook that you've made yourself.
Strip off most of the meat from your chicken and put it aside to use later.
In a large saucepan put your chicken carcass and cover it with water. Add an onion, several cloves of garlic, 2 carrots (peeled), 2 sticks of celery, bay leaves, peppercorns, and a couple of cloves. Season really well. Put this on the stove top and let it gently bubble away for several hours.
   Once it has been cooking for quite sometime remove the chicken, bay leaves and cloves. Strain the stock and return it to the saucepan, keeping it on low heat. The vegetables you have sitting in your strainer place in a blender and whiz them up until they are smooth.

Soup;

In a large saucepan melt a fair amount of butter, probably about 80 grams. Add enough flour to make a roux. Now gently add the hot stock a bit at a time, incorporating with a whisk so there are no lumps. Keep adding the stock and whisking it in until you feel you have enough for a good pot-full of soup. Add the reserved chicken pieces from when you made the stock and the pureed veges from your blender (if you didn't make your own stock - a slap on the wrist for you - but you will need two cups of cooked chicken and some finely chopped veg to add at this stage) Now add two cups of cream (Yum!) and season well. Let this simmer for about 20minutes. Now taste, hopefully it will be beautiful by this stage. Add more seasoning if you feel you need it and then put in some egg noodles and let them cook through. Serve with parsley sprinkled on top and I like a little Parmesan on mine. Wait for accolades and praise to heaped on you by the whole family as they inhale your sensational soup!