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."

Uncomfortable Food

I must really start growing a herb garden. Buying all these fresh herbs every week and then having to chuck them away, is costing a small fortune. The problem is that we have never lived in any place long enough for me to start something permanent like a herb garden, but I guess I could invest in a mobile one. One in a pot, I mean, not on wheels.

This week has announced loud and  clear that winter is on its way. Last year I missed summer completely. I spent winter in the UK and winter in South Africa due to a series of rather unfortunate events and miscalculations. It did however, really make me appreciate summer this year, even if it was in the UK. But now, alas, it is over. I think the rain is here to stay and thus our evenings of BBQ's will probably have to be put on the shelf till next year, or at least until we get so fed up, that we get out the Golf umbrellas and light a fire under their shelter.

Winter weather calls for winter food. On Friday, I started Mia and her friend off on the "rain-equals-pancakes" tradition,however, they were not very keen on the idea. That left us mommies stuck with a pile of pancakes and nowhere to go. Not that it was a problem as one of us were pregnant (not me!) and found a safe place to give these golden lovelies a home.

Sticking to the general idea of winter, Stefan and I decided to opt for the Comfort Food option last night. Now, I have a bit of a problem with the term "comfort food". Isn't it an odd way to describe food? Does it imply that there are in fact foods that are uncomfortable? For me most foods are pretty comforting but I suppose the "uncomfortableness" of a dish solely depends on your audience and of course, your attire. Eating a messy hamburger with all the trimmings, while wearing a lovely silk evening gown, sitting across the table from William and Kate, may become pretty uncomfortable, for both them and you. On the other hand, sharing this dish with someone like Harry and Chelsea on a beach in Cape Town, wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, may be a lot more satisfactory and yes, comforting. And isn't it true that most comfort foods leave you feeling rather uncomfortable after you've eaten them? I mean, the whole point of these dishes is that once you start eating them, it is impossible to stop. Lets face it, you end up feeling rather bloated and uncomfortable, not to mention the uncomfortableness you are going to feel for the next week trying exercise away all the calories you've just gained. So I guess, to correct myself, Stefan and I chose to make the most uncomfortable food ever last night, pasta. As I wrote in a previous blog, Fluffy Pasta, for me there is probably no better (un)comfort(able) food then pasta. Actually anything starchy will do, but I am particularly fond of pasta. I have probably made every version of it before, except one, and that was Cannelloni, so it was time to tick this little box in my recipe book. But let me start off at the beginning...

To Start:

Last night was a rather cheesy affair yet again. We started off the evening making something that was introduced to me by one of my brother's friends, Blommie. I have no idea what his real name is, but when you meet Blommie, his nickname makes perfect sense. Blommie worked as a waiter in a restaurant near Stellenbosch called the Buena Vista Social Cafe.
It is probably one of my favourite places to go to when I am in the area. Good food, fantastic atmosphere and good waiting staff, what more can you ask for? We were confused as to what to order for starters and he said that we should leave it up to him. Fifteen minutes later he returned with a plate full of little deep fried golden brown little dumplings shaped thingies that turned out to be heaven in a batter. They are probably better known as Jalapeno Poppers. When we were at Kingston market yesterday morning to buy ingredients, I saw Jalapenos on special: 10 for a pound. It is amazing what memories food can bring back. That night, was the last time I had Jalapeno Poppers until last night and the last night that Blommie's dad was alive. He was shot the next day. I guess I will always think of him when I eat these.

My local Jalapeno provider

Sun dried tomato and olive heaven

The poppers are dead easy to make, although very messy. Our Jalapenos were a little bit big for the recipe and I had to cut them in half. I think it would work better with smaller ones as these were rather hard to stuff, but after deep frying anything, who cares about the size. They were delicious. We replaced the bacon bits that the recipe called for, with sun dried tomatoes which worked  very well. Of course ten of these giant poppers were far too many for us, but I am relieved to say that they even work as a cold dish. The leftovers were rather yummy this morning, even after spending an evening in the fridge.

Giant Jalapenos

Stuffed with cream cheese and sun dried tomatoes

Dipped in flour and milk

Rolled in bread crumbs

Deep fried until golden brown
(make sure the oil is not too hot, otherwise
the batter falls off the peppers)

..and serve with a good sprinkling of Chilli

Mains:

For main course it was the pasta dish of all pasta dishes; Spinach and Ricotta Cannelloni with a Courgette salad and a lemon, garlic and chilli dressing. I promise to move onto a new chef if I can find one whose food I enjoy as much as Jamie's, or if I go bankrupt while trying to work through his recipes,whichever comes first. It is blatantly clear that Jamie has got no money problems. His recipes are filled with really extravagant ingredients. No Jamie, Parmesan does not grow on trees. There is a reason why some people put their cheeses into Swiss bank volts for safe keeping, it is a very expensive cheese, Mr. Oliver. So, when a recipe calls for 4 hand fulls of Parmesan Cheese, one can appreciate the financial dilemma. We drastically cut it down to 2 hand fulls, and I must admit, it was just as good. So unless you are a Mr. Oliver with LOADS of Parmesan in the bank, you can definitely cut down on the amount of cheese he puts in this recipe. It is very rich and very filling but wonderful! It was a bit of an ordeal getting the Spinach and Ricotta mix into the Cannelloni tubes as we had no piping bag or any other bags in the kitchen. The only plastic bags I could find was Ella's nappy bags, so yes, we ate Cannelloni filled with Ricotta and Spinach, piped into the tubes with a Tescos nappy bag. That is what parenthood will do to you.

We will not show you pictures of the piping fiasco,
but it turned out neat and tidy afterwards.

I cannot even begin to describe how good this was

At least the salad was rather easy and basic and light. It went well with the heavy creamy pasta and is perfect for people, like my mom, who do not like the "rawness" of ordinary salads. The Courgettes are cooked beforehand and left to cool and marinade in a wonderful dressing of lemon, olive oil, garlic and chillies. Although, for my mom, I would make sure to leave out the garlic too. People from Pietersburg just do not seem to appreciate the garlicness of garlic.

Courgette salad, with lemon, garlic, olive oil and
chillies.

Stefan and I must really take a course in
food styling!

Dessert:

I had no idea what to make for dessert, but thankfully, Nacori came to the rescue. She facebooked me a recipe for Chocolate Cobbler. The great thing about this recipe is, is that the ingredients are simple and I had all of it in the house. I find it fascinating that you can use the same ingredients in a different way and come up with a whole new dish. I cannot recommend this dessert strongly enough. It is dead easy to make, it is dead cheap, and it is death by chocolate! It goes well with either ice cream or cream, but I enjoyed it just by itself. It is one of those perfect recipes for when you are having people over for dinner on short notice and do not have time to run to the shops. Thanks Nacori, I can see the future filled with a LOT of Chocolate Cobblers.

Cobbler: Step 1

Cobbler: Step 2

I left out taking photos of Step 3, but this is what it
looked like after Step 4 (the oven)

And this is Mia, after Step 1 and 2

Stefan and I had an early night. I was exhausted after not sleeping the night before. One would think that a 4 month old baby would be the one to keep you awake, but no, it was my three year old. Sigh. There is a beautiful Afrikaans saying:"Magies vol, ogies toe". Translated it means when your tummy is full, your eyes want to fall closed. Well that was exactly the case last night and leaving all the dishes on the table and the kitchen in a state, I fell asleep, comfortable in my uncomfortableness.


Until next week....

PS. Please feel free to try out any of these recipes by following the links. I would love to hear your comments and suggestions. I still want to try out Gillian's lemon bake pasta, but I will wait till it is my turn again to choose.

Celebrating Poverty

A few years back I took an American tourist on a sightseeing trip around Cape Town. After showing her all the attractions,we ended up at the Victoria and Alfred Waterfront. I eagerly showed her around the craft market, pointing out all the bits and bobs made out of old LP's, coke tins and a bunch of other recyclable materials. Not very impressed, she turned around  and took the wind completely out of my sails with the words "You guys really know how to celebrate poverty". With that we left, me feeling deflated, her probably annoyed that there was nothing "proper" for her to buy.

I haven't though about that moment for years, until I looked for the recipe that Stefan chose for this week: Paella. According to my research, Paella was considered the poor man's feast and originally contained no seafood. It was usually made in the open field by labourers using whatever meat they could find. This usually included chicken, rabbit, duck and snails. Rice was always readily available and was also the best way to fill up a lot of hungry tummies for very little money.Today paella is the most popular dish in Spain and there are literally hundreds of variations.

So why can't we celebrate poverty? I am not saying it is a good thing to be poor, but poverty often leads to incredible creativity. There are many examples of this throughout the world. Struggling people come up with the most creative ways to feed their families and decorate their homes.Coming from South Africa, we are used to people getting creative to do just this. All around the streets of Cape Town, you will see people using different ideas to make money, to decorate and construct their homes and to dress. Something the IKEA culture of Europe has destroyed here. It is awful to walk into people's houses and they all look the same. IKEA display number 12 or 13. It is so boring.

I know many people see the squatter camps around the Cape Town area as an eye sore, but I find the way the houses are constructed, just beautiful. I know it sounds corny, but I see it as beacons of hope, as people looking to better themselves and struggling but not giving up.On a field trip at university I had the opportunity to visit the Noordhoek informal settlement. There was nothing informal about it. I was amazed at how organised it was. There were streets and plot numbers and a whole committee running the area. We went into some of the houses and I was gobsmacked at the way the woman made their houses beautiful.If you want to know what I am talking about, take a look at a book called Shack Chic. I fell in love with these little houses, and although I know there is a lot of heartache and pain behind those doors, I still love to draw them. I can spend hours on one of my drawings of these little streets, but have not spent one second drawing a row of houses in Knightsbridge or Oxshot.

Rhino for Sale on the Oprah website for $350!

Missing Home by Margie

Anyway enough about that, last night it was our turn to try this poor man's feast. We were seven people all in all, but there was a catch for the guests: Every one had to help and was responsible for a course. The "Single until Monday" man and The Newlyweds, were responsible for the starters, The Hosts for the main course and The Old married couple for dessert.

The Cooks

Our "Single until Monday man" got off to a flaming start preparing his little starters. Blinis and caviar! Yes, we had caviar. Nothing poor about that! It was the first time I tried caviar and I loved it. Not everyone did, but I thought it was brilliant.We will forgive Tony and Nadia for buying ready made, as they are currently in transit and do not have their own kitchen.

The man in action

Creme Fraiche and Lumpfish Caviar-ing

Starters check!

We chose a Jamie recipe, again. I am sorry, but I really love Jamie's food. It is not fussy at all. His is a bit different from the traditional paella recipes. It contains no chicken or fish or dreaded peas (I hate peas!), but rather pork belly and chorizo and seafood. We had the pleasure of visiting the Cobham Farmer's Market, on the appropriately named Leg o Mutton field, that morning. We bought almost all our ingredients there, so all the meat and seafood was Organic and Farm Fresh. The only thing with Farm Fresh meat, is that it doesn't come in neat little packages like in the supermarket. Who would have thought that a Pork Belly actually had a skin, complete with nipples! Poor Nadia and I had to "de-nipple" the poor pig and de-beak the squid, before we could get started. Not as easy as it sounds. I was sharply reprimanded for my lack of sharp knives. Stefan and I will definitely have to invest.

Pork Belly complete with nipple!

The Newlywed de-nippling the poor pig!

After choosing a "Recipe Master", we were all set to go. Nadia, Mark and I did most of the prepping for the
Paella, while Tony was our "Recipe Master", a good role for him as he could practise giving orders. This skill will come in handy when he starts his new job in a few weeks. Unfortunately though, our Recipe Master abdicated after the preparing was done but his successor did a wonderful job. She was known for the rest of the night as "The Recipe". We also had "The Light" (holder of the torch) and "The Stirrer" (Paella stirrer that is).

The Stirrer and The Light in action.

What a feast. I could eat Paella every night. The last time I had it was in Spain and I think ours was MUCH better. Who said too many cooks spoil the broth? We had seven and all was wonderful. I was so glad we had the girls there who have both made this dish before as I would not have known what to do. A great help indeed!

Now doesn't that look good?

The dessert was the cherry on the cake or rather, the strawberries on the cream. Finally I got my cream! Pavlova with fresh berries. Karen made the meringue from scratch and filled it with delicious cream and berries. Yum! Yum! We all had a piece, but Nadia and I polished it off.

Before: How gorgeous!

After

What a brilliant evening. It was so much fun listening to our 80's classics and having an uninterrupted adult conversation, although the subject matter was a bit strange. We again got to bed very late, or very early, depending on how you look at it, but it was worth it. I would like to thank all the cooks for their input, The Stirrer for stirring, The Recipe for reading and The Light for shining his torch so well. We should definitely invest in an outside light as well, but then The Light will be jobless and it is a recession at the moment. One has to be considerate. Lastly I would like to thank all those poor Spanish farmers for having the creativity to invent this feast. I am seriously considering changing the name Fat Saturday to Paella Saturday.

Please remember to send any recipe ideas or challenges to satfatterdays@gmail.com (Not a spelling mistake, the other name was already taken!)

Until next week...