Boiling Bunnies and other favourites

What makes a movie great? Is it the script? The actors? The editing or is it the special effects? For me it greatly depends on the mood I am in when I am watching it or on what is going on in my life at the time. I guess the more you can relate to the characters or to the storyline, the more meaningful it is to you. In the past I have recommended movies to friends only to be laughed at for my appalling taste. Likewise, I have heard that a movie is the greatest thing since the iPad only to be so disappointed and appalled that I have had to leave the cinema. The best kind of movies are the kind that you have heard nothing about and see by chance and end up being one of your favourites*. Then there are those that you love because you were at a certain age when you saw the movie and it was in fashion to say that you saw and loved them. Movies like Reality Bites, Pump up the Volume and the famous Three Colours Trilogy. Sometimes it is better not to watch these again, as Stefan and I discovered on Friday night. It is better to hold onto the fond memories of these classics than having to strike them off your "favourite-movie-of-all-time-list". (Three Colours Blue is definitely not on my list anymore.) I have also learned to never ever take some ones recommendation for a movie they saw just after they wrote a major exam. Likewise I will also never recommend a movie again after having to work out the bending moments of a tensile structure. After an exam your brain has turned to mush and you may find yourself recommending Jim Careys' Cable Guy or comparing his Ace Ventura:Pet Detective to a masterpiece by the likes of David Lynch or Baz Lurman.

I sometimes get so sucked into movies, especially, like I said before, if I relate to the characters. I remember falling head over heals for Hugh Jackman in Paperback Hero when I had a major crush on a guy in my class. I cried so hard in Immortal Beloved after a very bad break up that I struggled to leave the cinema. I found Hurt Locker boring, just because I find the whole Iraq issue a bit dull. I loved True Romance because of Patricia Arquette sticking a bottle opener into her kidnappers foot. I saw Lady Hawk 42 times,High Lander 46 times and Pulp Fiction 26 times for various other reasons. Brave Heart wasn't for me, I just did not relate to a Scottish man in a kilt running around killing people and I have never been able to watch any Tom Cruise movie after his appalling sofa scene on the Oprah Winfrey show. Does not matter how mean he tries to be, I still see him jumping up and down on that couch, looking like a complete fool.However, never  in my wildest dreams did I think I would relate to any of the characters in Fatal Attraction! Fatal Attraction, who can forget that movie. Glen Close at her freakiest and best. Not someone I care to relate to, but when I boiled Mr. Fluffy on Saturday evening, I felt very Glen Closey. Not a good thing. It was far too  freaky and not something I would recommend for the faint hearted. Seeing the carcass of a Bunny Rabbit lying on your chopping board is just something you do not want to remember, let alone eat. I still shiver at the thought.

Bugs on the Chopping Block

Poor Bunny!

Frying Rabbit...Looks like chicken too!

And here it is...Boiling Bunnies!

Now the Spanish Rabbit Stew was not bad, it was just freaky. Tastes a bit like chicken, but then again, doesn't everything. I have heard people's telling stories from their travels all around the world, eating the most exotic things and they all describe it the same way: "Tastes a bit like chicken". The only thing that is definitely NOT anything like a chicken, was the bones. You cannot chew them like a chicken bone. They are sharp little buggers and you can do your gums some serious damage on poor Bugs' rib cage. Don't get me wrong, it was lovely tasting, wonderful sauce, awesome "wild" taste, totally organic and cholesterol free. Just a little bit too freaky for me, so I am not sure if I will be doing that again in a hurry.

Nice, but I don't know about eating it again.

I made Stefan and I a good old familiar favourite for dessert, Chocolate Mousse. At least something had to make up for the guilt I felt over the bunny slaying. Now all I have left is the guilt of eating too much mousse.

Good old Chocolate Mousse

Until next week...


*Some of my Favourites: Once, Sunshine Cleaning, The Station Agent and Napoleon Dynamite to name a few.

Friends are family

When you live abroad, life works a little bit differently. Your friends become your family. Even those obscure acquaintances you once met at a family BBQ when you were four, are now the closest things you have to remind you of home. They are the ones you phone in the middle of the night when your wife goes into labour, they are the ones that hold your hand when your children are sick in hospital and they are the ones who dry your tears when you drop your mother off at the airport after a  visit. You spend Christmas with them, you go to all their children's birthday parties, you help organise weddings and choose wedding dresses, approve or disapprove of prospective spouses and you  cry your eyes out when one of them leaves to go back home or move onto another country. The only bonus of is that Christmas is usually rather uneventful and does not include a family fight. When you live over here, these are the people you lean on for everything. Even your relationship with your husband and wife is a bit different. We tend to do everything together here. When you do not know any one, your wife becomes your golf buddy and your husband knows far more than he should about your latest hairdresser. It is a strange situation, nice, but rather strange.

So with that in mind, you can say that we spent the whole weekend with family. Our Fat Saturday was spent dining on Moules and Frites at the Bakers. I have never in my life seen so many mussels in one place at one time. The only boys were a little outnumbered ( 2 boys between 6 woman) so it was obvious that they had the job of de-bearding and washing 5 kg of these little suckers. Not that they complained, it was either that or playing dressing-up with the girls.

De-bearding Mussels

Sometimes simple meals are the best. You just cannot go wrong with eating seafood and chips off newspaper. There is something about the newspaper that makes the seafood taste instantly more seafoodie. Fish and chips wrapped in newspaper just tastes more fish and chippie, mussels and frites eaten off a newspaper covered table, just tastes more delicious than dishing them up on a plate. You may think that 5 kg of mussels is a bit of an overkill, but there was not a single one left. I am not sure which recipe the Bakers used although I know it included banana shallots and garlic. I include two links to similar recipes that I am sure will work out just as nice. I must however stress that the recipe does not call for any "finger tips". Mark did not seem to read that part of the recipe as he almost lost his in the process of cutting up the shallots. His mussels did turn out delicious, although it meant almost loosing a finger. Thanks Mark for putting yourself through so much pain for our pleasure.

Mussels, mussles everywhere...

This is what 5kg of Mussles look like before you eat them...

This is what they look like after...

I was in charge of dessert and as I am still upset with Mr. Oliver for calling his son Buddy Bear, I refused to make one of his recipes. Like I have said before, when wanting something chocolaty or fattening, who better to consult than the queen of calories? Nobody can make a chocolate cheesecake quite like Nigella can. I tried her chocolate one this time, which was much less time consuming than her New York version. I am so glad that the dinner was not too heavy, because the dessert surely was. Mine was just not as pretty as hers, but it still tasted good. Mind you, it is hard to make chocolate, cream cheese and Castor sugar taste bad!

The great Nigella Cheesecake
(with a few chocolate splatters for effect)

Mmmm...chocolate!

 On Sunday we had another wonderful family lunch, with the Louws and ended up getting home late last night. Thanks to everyone involved for making our Fat Saturday so Fat and our Sunday so lazy. It was good to spend a weekend with people we love and although we miss our families greatly, it is good to have friends like you around to make the pain a little more bearable.

Would a Buddy Bear by Any Other Name Smell as Sweet?

I am definitely not the worlds greatest parent. I am impatient, I am often irritable and I prefer sitting behind my computer with my own thoughts than trying to recreate my daughters new version of her favourite fairy tale: Rapunzel and the seven dwarfs*. I am also not the kind of parent that enjoys standing in the park watching the children go up and down slides. I get bored of telling the same stories over and over and I prefer grown up conversations in a grown up coffee shop to trying to gulp down a bad, cold, overpriced cappuccino while trying to sing a nursery rhyme while avoiding being kicked in the shin by toddlers at the local play group.  No, I am not the worlds greatest parent, but one thing I am not, is cruel. Something I cannot say about my food hero, Mr. Oliver.

As I was casually strolling through the aisles of Waitrose today, thinking of what I should make for tonight, my eye caught his picture on the Daily Telegraph. He was beaming and proud holding a little baby. "Another one!" I thought " is that no.4?" I was overjoyed, just as much as Mr.Oliver, I am sure, to read that his wife Jules, gave birth to a baby boy. Three girls are plenty, he must be over the moon. Then why, I ask you dear reader, why, did he bestow such unbearable cruelty upon such a tiny little baby? I think there should be some kind of law against this, for surely you cannot let a child go through life with a name like Buddy Bear! Yes, Buddy Bear Oliver. I kid you not. How on earth is that poor child going to go through life bearing the name Buddy Bear? His parents have dug his social grave and he is not even two days old. Poor, poor kid. Even if he changes his name in future, 13 years from now some kid somewhere will find today's newspaper and it will be tickets for poor little Buddy. Buddy Bear, my poor little Buddy Bear, may your dad stay rich and your mom beautiful and may you grow up to be bigger and stronger than the other kids, so at least you can punch those who point at you and laugh.

Jamie and Buddy Bear: Photo by Mirror.co.uk

*Rapunzel being a rather nasty imitation of a Barbie, we bought for a few bob at a local toy store and the 7 dwarfs being her soft toys; a Lion, a Zebra, a Cheetah, an overdressed bear, an Easter bunny, Upsie daisy doll and frog finger puppet.

Fat Sunday

When Blogging, one must remember to keep an open mind. To stay flexible and not to let life's little surprises ruin your blogging style. This weeks blog is late due to circumstances beyond our control. We blame the Canadians. Not the whole country as such, just a few who made an unexpected visit to our neck of the woods. Not that we regret seeing them at all, it was wonderful. It just meant that our dinner plans had to be moved to the next evening. This, however, will not become a regular occurrence, as Sunday night is a school night and Stefan and I cursed the alarm this morning. (Plus, my arm is still a little bit sore from all the late night stirring. I wonder if there is something called "Risotto Elbow"? )

As I said before, it was Sunday night and I was making Risotto at 9:30, therefor there was no time for dessert. It was also probably better for the scales because I don't think my body needed any extra calories after polishing off a plate of cheesy rice. There were several other problems with having your Fat Day on a Sunday. It is the end of the weekend and by this time you are so fed up of dieting that you probably would have started snacking the day before . As you are not really counting this day as your Fat Day, you tend to forget that these little snacky thingies also carry a hefty calorie load. So, you may just end up having a Fat Weekend, making those poor Weight Watchers scales sigh on Monday morning. Not that I did anything like that, no, not me, not ever.

Stirring...

..and stirring...

...and more stirring...

We did however, manage to make some spring rolls again, as we had some of the pastry and other ingredients left, but I will not bore you with the photos of those again. The Risotto was Yummy! You can't really go wrong with Risotto. Rice: Good, Cheese:Good. Anything you add to this is just a bonus. We stuck added seafood and a pinch of Saffron. This led to a hearty debate about "Values" and "Saffron". I never thought about it, what is Saffron? Amazing how Google has taken all the fun out of guessing games. Now we do not wonder and talk, going around in circles about what we think it may be, no, we just Google it. I was told in a few split seconds that it was a flower, the Saffron Crocus. That was a quick debate. Probably a good thing, it was rather late.

Saffron Crocus

...still stirring..

..stirring with seafood..

The Result of "Risotto Elbow"

Next week, we are not changing the date or the time or the place. We are sticking to the schedule, Canadians or no Canadians! Actually we have been invited for a Fat Saturday at friends house and I have to make dessert. Pressure! It is going to be fun to do a cooking party again. Plus, next Saturday is the monthly Cobham Farmers Market. Time to buy all our meat for the month. I must just find a recipe for rabbit before we head off.

Until next week...

Some People Have War In Their Countries.

My favourite saying or phrase is from an episode of a program I used to watch in secret. Stefan hated it when it was on, so I tried to watch re-runs when he was not home. Yes, I am shy to admit, I am a follower of America’s Next Top Model. I am not going to defend myself, it is pure trash, but none the less, I learnt the motto I try to live my life by from one of the girls who featured in this series. She was, believe it or not, a real life Russian-mail-order-bride. Her husband, who was 20 years her senior, entered her into the competition. He must not have believed his luck when this beautiful girl stepped off the plane, even more so when she fell head over heels in love with him as well. She really did. Although the other girls mocked her because of her marital arrangement, she kept her head held high and confessed to them how grateful she was that she was saved by her wonderful husband from her circumstances. These types of programs always set the poor fame-starved-contestants silly challenges. In one of the challenges, the Russian beauty was paired up with an American girl. They lost the challenge because they arrived 5 minutes after the deadline. The American girl went outside and started cursing and stamping her feet, throwing a tantrum like a 2 year old. My Russian heroine kept completely calm and when there was a break in the temper tantrum, looked at the frantic girl and said: “Some people have war in their countries”, turned around and left.


That is so true. When life seems unfair and I get irate about little things, I think of that phrase. Some people really do have war in their countries and who am I to moan about a lamb steak that was served to me in the most appalling manner known to man. Yes it is true, I was annoyed. On the  first grown-up night out in ages, I was served the worst food I have ever set eyes on in my life, but when I put in perspective and I think about the fact that some people get pieces of blown up lambs flying past their heads in worn torn areas, I have to be thankful that mine was at least on a plate. I will, however, still advise those of you who do not share my outlook on life, to avoid Carluccio's in Cobham High Street at all costs.Not that I want to elaborate on the previous evenings' disastrous meal for fear of getting upset all over again, but it made the worst meal I had before Friday night, look and taste like a work of art. The only difference is that I could not send that meal back to the kitchen like I could this one, as it was prepared by a distant family member who sat across the table from me and watched me force it down. I guess that meal could loosely be described as a salad, that is, it had the ingredients of a salad, but could not quite make up its mind if it was a fruit salad or a "normal" salad. Banana and orange do NOT, I repeat, do NOT go with Gherkins, cucumber, tomatoes or a mayonnaise and chutney dressing! I still shiver at the thought of the mayonnaise-chutney piece of orange I had to stuff in my mouth. JIG!

At least I could rectify the terrible injustice did to me the night before, by preparing one of my all time favourite dishes for our Fat Saturday. I had NEVER made this for myself as it is my dad's speciality. He always made it as a treat for us on Sundays after church. Even today I would walk across oceans if I knew that it is on the menu for Sunday lunch. I was so happy when Stefan joined the family that he also enjoyed Chinese Chicken Ala Barnie. What a treat and now I know why it is such a winner dish. It is dead easy to make and so tasty that you can hardly help to impress guests. The recipe is as follows:

Ingredients:
1kg Chicken Breasts (although for two people, 2-3 chicken breasts are sufficient)
1kg Self Raising Flour
Water (enough to make a soft batter)
1/4 Bottle Soy Sauce
1/4 Bottle Sweet Mild Mustard
1.4 Bottle Chutney
Dried Rosemary
Garlic Flakes
Salt and Pepper
Oil for deep frying

Method:
Mix the Mustard, Soy Sauce and Chutney together until smooth ( you can heat it up in the micro a little to help get it smooth. I added a bit of water as well, as the mustard I used was a little strong)

Cut the chicken breasts into bite size chunks

Cut chicken into bite size chunks

Mix the Flour, water, salt and pepper to make a soft batter and add the chicken. Make sure that each piece of chicken is coated with the batter.

Coat all the pieces with batter

Pour enough oil in a big pot to deep fry the chicken pieces (be careful not to make the oil too hot, otherwise the batter falls off)
Fry until golden brown and drain on kitchen paper.

Fry until golden brown

Add the Rosemary and garlic to the mustard mixture and mix the fried chicken into the mixture, coating each piece with the sauce.

Coat fried pieces with sauce

I served these with rice and a Jamie coleslaw salad.  You did not think that the evening would be completely Jamie free did you? However, I was not mad about the dressing of this salad. Milk,anchovies and garlic is not such a good combination. I don't think I will be making this again in a hurry.

 As my dad is not a wine drinker, he suggested that we have a beer shandy with the chicken, and we did. It went down a treat, and yes dad, we thought of you with every mouth full.

My bad food staging again. I promise I am going
to take lessons!

I kept with the Chinese theme when selecting a recipe for our starters as well. I just had to try to make my own spring rolls. I must admit, at first I thought it would be easier to give up on the idea and order some from the Chinese down the road. The first few were a big flop, but after a while we got the hang of how to roll them and it became easier and easier.

The FLOP!

Take two

Success!

Serve with Oyster sauce and Soy sauce

 They were well worth the effort and I am glad we persisted. If you come to our house for dinner in the near future, you are definitely having spring rolls for a starter. Partly because I am pretty good at rolling them now and partly because I have loads of pastry left although we did not manage to find the specified spring roll pastry. The kind people at Waitrose pointed out something called "Feuilles De Brick" that worked just fine. It is a Mediterranean pastry but I could not taste the difference.

When you have had two deep-fried dishes, you may as well end it off with a nail in the coffin: Chantilly cream. I must admit, I did not have space for the dessert, but Stefan assured me that it was wonderful. I will take his word for it, because I am sure that my Weight Watchers scales would not have approved. I had fun making it though and I thought that my Strawberry Mille Feuille came out rather pretty. Next time I will try making it a little differently. The chef at a restaurant I worked at as a student used sugar and butter to make little caramel discs instead of the pastry. I think it worked better with these discs, as the pastry and cream combination was a little bit too rich for me.

My beautiful pastries

Top View

Side view

Tomorrow is a new week and the start of a new diet. Luckily there is still loads of cabbage left from the spring rolls. Cabbage soup it is then! I will be really good this week and not cheat even once. I promise. However, I cannot say the same for my other addiction. I did manage to get myself hooked to another dumb American Reality Show; "Beauty and the Geek". If nothing else, these shows are giving me a lot of new material to use in the future. A blonde girl on the show said in an interview, with a deadpan face: “It is not that I am stupid, it's just that I don't know stuff". I do think, however, it will be frowned upon if I used this phrase at the office, telling people that I do not think they are stupid, it is just that they don't know stuff.
But next time I get told a soppy story why work is handed in late, or deadlines cannot be met, I'll have to respond with the phrase: "Some people truly do have war in their countries."