Being Brave and Feeling Scared

I have thought hard about whether I should write this post, but I don't like it when blogs I enjoy reading just drop off the face of the earth for no apparent reason.   So I feel I owe you, dear readers, some courtesy and explanation.   I would also of course like to be able to stick to the happy stuff, especially at this time of year, because really, who wants to read doom and gloom, but sometimes things don't work out that way. 

So, here's the thing.  My week started normally, on Monday.   Just the usual work and a client lunch where we discussed the weather in England (-15 in Yorkshire!), the new Victorian government, holiday plans and the merits of roast goose v roast turkey. 

On Tuesday I had a mammogram and an ultrasound. Routine I thought.  I had never had either of these before but something did not feel quite right to me so I thought I should take a precaution.  I knew the results were not routine when the ultrasound operator told me that I needed to go back to my referring doctor that very afternoon. 

On Wednesday I saw a breast surgeon, had 7 biopsies and an MRI.

On Thursday I was told that I had multi focal invasive carcinoma in my right breast.  

Today as I write this I am preparing to have surgery on Monday. A mastectomy actually. 

I feel strangely light-headed, which I put down to the shock.  I kind of expected I would be wailing and howling.  But maybe that is still to come. 

It's empty in the valley of your heart

The sun it rises slowly as you walk 

away from all the fears and all the faults 

you left behind

(The Cave by Mumford & Sons)

Like all illnesses, cancer is a process.   There are many options, many possible treatments, particularly so for breast cancer.   I am taking things one day at a time, because that is the logical thing to do and also because if I think too far ahead my heart will break. 

I have been so so impressed by all the medical people I have dealt with just in the last few days.  Their compassion, their calm and their professionalism has made me feel very fortunate to live here, in Melbourne, with such great medical care.  

And strangely, I actually feel lucky.  Lucky that my doctor ordered an ultrasound as well as a mammogram (because the mammogram revealed nothing).   Lucky because it is on my right side, and I am left handed.    

Once you have children, as everyone tediously says, everything changes.  And that includes they way you view yourself and your role on this green and blue planet.    

On a trivial level, I found I could no longer watch war films because I kept thinking about my son going off to war.   

More positively I started to feel that I owed my children an obligation to stay alive and healthy for as long as I could.   That is in part what was behind my decision a year ago to start training three times a week, from a standing start of never having exercised.   So, at least, ironically, I can comfort myself with the thought that I go into this at a reasonably good level of physical health. 

Before all this happened, I was going to do a little post on children's Christmas books, because to me Christmas is not complete without them.    Here is just a little excerpt, from my very favourite book, the Snowman, by Raymond Briggs.  This is a magical book, which reminds me every time I read it of the fragility of life and how you should make the most of everything (in the case of this story, before it melts).

All the images in this book are divine but I particularly like this one, of the little boy and the snowman flying over the onion domes in Red Square in Moscow. 

There are so many things whirling around in my mind.   I still have so many basic things to sort out.   Work.  Christmas lunch.  What do I tell the children?   What do I tell the children? 

So, dear friends, as you may have gathered, I need to take a break from this little blog, to face my demons and have my battle.   Don't think I am going away any time soon though.  

Today I want you all to tell at least one person you love them, and stop, just for 30 seconds, and put your face in the sunshine (or snow), and smile. 

Update: (19 December 2010) 

I just wanted to say thank you all, from the very bottom of my heart for your kind thoughts, suggestions, wishes of love, whimsical quotes and compassionate messages.  To my fellow travellers, family members of cancer sufferers, occasional visitors, complete strangers, regular commenters and dear dear blog friends: thank you.   One day soon I will get around to visiting each and every one of you.   

And thank you all for the emails.  

And thank you to Ness Lockyer, Jane, Kerry, Amanda, Martha, Anita, JMW, Maxabella, Kerri, Ann, Caterpillar, Posie, Anita, Millie, Natasha, Anna and AM (I hope that is everyone) for posting about this. 

I have always been terrible at asking for help, because I am one of those people who thinks I can do it better and quicker than anyone else.  I still think that is true!  But I see now that such an approach has to change.   I have great friends and family and they are already amazing me with their support. 

I feel utterly buoyed by all your thoughts.  My over imaginative son told me on Friday that he could see real Transformers in the clouds.  Well, I can see other things. Love. Support.  Positive thoughts.  And quite a lot of white fluffy stuff.   Which reminds me of something I have often said, which is that blogging brings out that all that is great about humanity.


xoxo








(first three images from SarahKaye.com)

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Salmon Ceviche and Babushkas for Christmas

Although my family is not large, this year I am having 20 people for Christmas lunch.   This intimidating number (for me) has had the rather nice unintended side effect of forcing me to get organised in advance.  

I have therefore had rather a lovely time looking at all the Christmas food magazines and pulling out my old Christmas cookbooks to plan the menu.  

My sole criteria is that at least half the food be able to be done ahead of time.  And I always do turkey.   And never an entree.   And given the insane variances of Melbourne weather, I want to have a menu which is traditional with a modern twist (ha, what a meaningless phrase) to allow for the possibility of a 40 degree day (as happened in 1999) and a 12 degree day (as happened in 2007 I think it was).

In between cookbook reading, I have had to attend to the important matters of the Santa List. 

This list was eventually produced by my daughter who initially said she didn't want anything at all. Nothing at all morphed into two pages of hilariously detailed requirements, including a babushka with 11 inside (12 total) (if you want to know where to find these, go here - you are looking at $380 for a babushka of this size) to lots and lots of Sylvanian family items.   

These creatures are called Calico Critters in the US and are made in Japan.  You can buy furniture for them, and houses, and cars, and food, and boats, and a windmill and a tree house. It's endless.   And they just keep creating new families, so it is impossible to keep up.
 

My son had some help with his list.    Somewhat scarily, he has put things on this list he already has.   This may be why the 'Santa won't come' threats are not working that well on him.    He knows that it doesn't really matter either way.  

We are having a small related problem which is that growing up my husband only received tiny things from Santa and presents from his parents.  My situation was reversed, a big present from Santa and nothing from my parents.   I prefer it this way because how can you use the Santa Bribe on the children if they know they are only getting a sparkly pencil or some other rubbish from Santa? 

In this time of rampant consumerism, you should take the time to read this story, about a little girl in the South of the US who received  a pair of shoes and an orange for Christmas.  This story has stayed with me ever since I first read it last Christmas.   

So, to food.
This is what I have in mind so far:

Canapes (all do-ahead)
Salmon Ceviche (see above image but not in those glass)
Corn and chilli cakes with avocado salsa
Blinis with sour cream

Main course
Roast Turkey with chestnut stuffing
Potatoes (plain roast or hasselback am undecided)
Chipolatas wrapped in pancetta
Ham (my mother does this)
Green beans with lemon
Some kind of green salad maybe asparagus with feta

Dessert  (all do-ahead)
Nectarine and Vanilla Trifle
Plum Pudding with Brandy Butter
Icecream Plum Pudding









Look at this trifle, on the cover of the Donna Hay Christmas magazine. Isn't it  divine? 

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Salads for Madame Bovary

Whilst looking for some Christmas table inspiration I came across this wonderful French dining room.

And I thought - I know just the woman for this room: the highly imaginative, but unhappy, Emma Bovary, the heroine of Gaustave Flaubert's beautiful book, written in 1854, which I am re-reading at the moment. This book was listed in the top two best books ever written (along with War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy) in a poll of contemporary writers in 2007.   

This was an excellent book for backpacking around the regional cities of France as a young girl, accompanied only by some mournful New Order music on my 'Walkman' (these large plastic portable tape decks seem so dated now don't they?) .  

This room looks like just the place Emma, enticed by the money lender Lheureux, may have excitedly spent money she didn't have decorating, in an effort to make things and in particular, her life, more interesting.    Really, who needs Eat Pray Love when you have a book like this to delve into a complicated female psyche?  After all, Emma Bovary tries all the same things that that woman does from Eat Pray Love (am I the only person on the planet to have found the EPL woman appallingly self indulgent?*):  turns to religion, has affairs, meditates on the meaning of life and indulges in romantic fantasies.

(Isabelle Huppert as Madame Bovary in Claude Chabrol's adaptation from 1991)

For Emma Bovary, in this dining room, I would serve salads.    Something delicate but well flavoured. 

Which coincides nicely with the no 1 item on my Christmas list this year, Salades by Sydney chef Damien Pignolet:

I really am very easy to buy for at Christmas.  Just a few cookbooks and I am a happy girl.  And this one looks to be a cracker.   So Santa, if you are reading this, please can you oblige me? 

Here are some of Pignolet's salads to entice you into summer (or winter!)

(cauliflower, beetroot and celeriac with horseradish cream)

(nicoise salade)

 

(goats cheese fritters, baby beetroot and figs)

(warm salad of scallops, sorrel croutons, grilled red pepper and witlof)

 

I think I could pretty much happily live on salads for the rest of my life.

(* I am aware I have probably made some enemies by this comment.  Please don't judge me by my loathing of this book..... I am of course just a lone voice struggling against the tide).

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A Fuchsia Pinata Party

If I could have conveniently timed my babies I would not have had one at the end of November (too close to Christmas) and end of March (bad timing in terms of school start resulting in him repeating 3 year old kindergarten).  But of course you can't plan these things.  At least I couldn't.   And for me the Christmas season can't really start until we get my daughter's birthday done and dusted.    I thought it would be pretty straightforward to do her 8th birthday party at home this year. 

I didn't count on having the flu at the same time.  Which made everything take 10 times longer to organise.  And whilst I usually forget something critical (like the date on the invitations or buying lemonade) this year it went off without a hitch. 

A tip if you are planning a party at home: don't.  Seriously, this is what I have learned over years of these events.    You can read and then make an informed decision!

(I am getting good use out of my pink tablecloth. 

This is the one I used for my Family Argument Lunch a few weeks back.)

First off, the games.  

Rule no 1: a game you spend ages preparing for takes 5 minutes to happen. Blink and it is over.   Even if you stretch out the pass the parcel to Lady Gaga for as long as you can, it still only takes 7 minutes.   Simple arithmetic tells you that if you have an hour to fill in, that is a LOT of party games (although technically musical statues and musical bobs are two different games, aren't they?)   This means that you need some activity which  takes up lots of time.  See Rule no 5 below. 

Rule no 2: every one's a winner.   So in pass the parcel, which in my youth was fiercely competitive because there was only one prize, is now a bit of yawn because there is a gift in every layer.

Rule no 3: 8 is a hard age.  They are not little girls and not into fairies and glitter.  But they are too young still for many types of parties.  Still, a couple of the guests turned down the offer of a balloon on departure.  Too  childish, I guess.  

Rule no 4: treasure hunts take 3 minutes and consist of Lord of the Flies style carnivorous screeching around the house looking for the little hidden packages.  See rule 1 above.  I think my treasure maps took maybe 20 times longer to make than the game took...

Rule no 5: everyone loves a game which involves bashing something half to death with a stick.  In this case, a flower shaped pinata.  These girls must have some stress going on in their lives, because the pleasure they took in beating this thing to a pulp was a sight to see.  Even when all the lollies inside had spilled out, they kept hitting and hitting until it was in tiny pieces.

(I strung up leaves and lamps from the maple trees. This is also where the pinata massacre occurred)

Now to the all important food.

Rule no 1: the food you have proudly taken ages to prepare will be of least interest to the party goers.  This year my meringues went weird (I blame the humidity) so I crushed them, mixed with strawberries and cream and made mini Eton Messes in shot glasses. They were amazing.  And no one ate them. 

Rule no 2:  simple and sugary is best.    Caramel popcorn (see above image) is universally loved.  And at the other end of the spectrum, chopped up watermelon is always gobbled up. 

Rule no 3: don't bother with the elaborate cake.  In my time I have made a Miffy, a giant cupcake, an echidna, an Ariel mermaid on a sea bed and a dinosaur.   This year I went round and simple (from Feast by Nigella Lawson).

Rule no 4: there is always one girl who complains there is not enough food and another one who eats nothing at all. 

Rule no 5:  serve frankfurters.  I know that these are barely food but how they love them. 

Finally.... have the party in the late afternoon so you can pass out conveniently when it finishes without having to get through the rest of the day.....

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Dark and Moody

Dear Mother Nature

I know it must be challenging having one planet with two hemispheres and reversed seasons. Are you confused? I think you must be, as I sit here staring out the window to yet another day of rain.

I feel a bit pushy for reminding you of this, but today is 1 December 2010. In Melbourne. It is the first day of summer.   Where is the sun?  

I do want my heart to skip lightly to bright whites and lobster, and sarongs and sun hats but instead I find myself attracted to this:



because who needs windows when its always dark outside.

and wanting to sleep more than usual, here:  

 

and here:

to nurse my flu \ cold.  Did I mention my cold?  Oh, I think my cold, and the cold and flu that half my office has, have come about because it is the first day of summer and it is still raining and cold.  Just like it has been since April.  Sorry to mention it again. 

Anyway this weather is making me turn to boho Dickensian dark and moody interiors, like this: 

and this, which has given me quite a lot of pleasure lately:

And also I have a hankering for a bit of 1940's wartime to get me through this wet spell,  wearing of course my new Persol spectacles from the man section at OPSM.

I now have something suitably wartime to watch on DVD, the film of the wonderful book Enigma by Robert Harris about codebreakers at Bletchley Park in the UK during WWII.  

Here is a code breaker Kate Winslet style.  This is what I would look like codebreaking:

And here is the real thing. I probably wouldn't look so much like these women, clever and brave as they are:

Last year these amazing women were finally recognised by the UK government.   If you have not seen or read Enigma you really must.

Perfect for this grim, rainy weather.

(Images: (1)(2) Scanlon & Theodore (3) (5) Airspace  (4) Bodie and Fou (6) Michael Paul (8) via Daily Mail)

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Coconut Chicken Salad in the Sunshine and a Giveaway Winner

Everyone has their own personal stress demon.  That little something which is upsetting way beyond the bounds of proportionality.  Mine is the childcare catastrophe.   The most extreme version of that happened to me last Friday as follows.

Once I had done all the 5 million things which needed doing in order to leave the family at home alone for 3 days (lists, $5 for casual clothes day packaged up, appointments made, food in fridge, food defrosted and labelled, instructions set out on the bench, clothes washed, netball cancelled, children prepared, bags packed, training cancelled, work documents squeezed in, taxi organised) I found at 7.30 am on Friday morning that I had a window of 30 minutes after the temp child care lady arrived and before I caught a taxi to the airport to fly to the Sunshine Coast.   I even had time to double check my hairdryer was packed (for defrizzing hair purposes).

That's funny, I thought, she should be here by now.  At 7.45 am I was worried so I checked my emails and discovered to my horror that in fact I had failed to book her for the day I needed her. I had completely messed up my dates and booked her for the following week when I most certainly did not need her.   

A good 10 minutes of hyperventilating followed, where the fact I was about to get on a plane and had no childcare and no options for emergency childcare for a whole day with a husband who had work commitments to keep really hit home.   I have never confused my dates in such a way before.

(Noosa main beach viewed from Bistro C - 27 November 2010)

A solution was found.  It was one of those no choice solutions really. Husband ran his 7 hours of telephone conferences from home, and my son got to watch a lot (and I do mean A LOT) of television.  

And I arrived home to a happy little family who had had lots of daddy bonding, scootering and dungeon building time over the weekend (once the television was switched off).  Which made me feel warm after a weekend of worry...

  (coconut chicken salad from Bistro C via here)

Meanwhile, I had a long weekend of meetings and briefings.  And a wonderful lunch with a perfect Shaw & Smith chardonnay at this beachfront restaurant in Noosa, Bistro C.  

There is a reason Noosa is crawling with Melburnians.  It is a fantastic place...

Now, to my paw paw cream giveaway.   In the time honoured manner of this blog, I arranged for a small superhero (Superman this time) to select the winner.   I put you all in, even though some of you said you were already fully supplied with paw paw cream.  As I said, you can never have too much.

The winner comes from the US, from Seattle: Jessica from 24 Corners.

Dear Jessica - email me your address and I will have a lovely package to you before Santa arrives at your house. xoxo

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Flower Fields

I have spent more time than is normal lately staring at this wallpaper:

(Blazing Poppies wallpaper by Anthropologie)



wondering if there is some way I could buy it, and then conspire to find a way to use it.   Wallpapering a powder room comes to mind, of course, but we don't have a powder room.  

I have always loved dense floral patterns.  I love it in art:

Untitled no 5 by Kent Rogowski (available on 20x200) 

but most of all I love it in skirts.

(The Sartorialist on the streets of Milan) 

(Prada resort 2007)

(more Anthropologie)

I even know why I love this look so much (and I loved it long before Mad Men came along). It is something to do with this book, which I read as a child:

Because fields of flowers and full skirts make me think of the Swiss mountains.  

Just as children who live in the snow dream of the strange orange dust of the desert, I, growing up with pale green eucalypts and dry hot summers, dreamed of a little Swiss chalet and green fields of wildflowers.   For us, green lawn came for half the year, but tended to dry up over summer.  

When I actually went to Switzerland as an adult, I could not believe how like my imagination the country was.  It was just like I pictured it.  The emerald green, and soft rolling hills.   The little dappled flowers everywhere by the roadside.  Just perfect. 

But back to business.   When, I ask does it become inappropriate to wear a flowery full skirt?  I have been sorely tempted online and in the shops recently.   Does it get to the point where it is a bit silly if one is over 40? 

(Am sorry for my intermittent posts and comments lately. I am flat out at work, and heading up to Queensland for a conference later this week.  Looking forward to the weather (hot and rainy! How can you Queenslanders keep your hair straight?)  Thank you all for taking the time to read and comment over the last few weeks)

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Miracle Cream Monday Morning (Giveaway)

I had some of our family over for lunch for my father's birthday over the weekend and I thought I would try something different for the table setting. I used a fuchsia table cloth from Market Import.  Most unlike me, colour wise, but it suited the beautiful sunny spring day.  The little milk bottle vase is from Ada & Darcy.



(lunch setting Sunday 21 November 2010)



The colour also suited the conversation, which was a typically lively one.  All current topics were covered (the Greens, climate change, asylum seekers, planning approvals, the Federal minority government, violence in children's movies,  the forthcoming State election and so on).  I felt a bit like I had gone 10 rounds at the end. In a good way.

I have changed my training spot in the mornings, we now do it in Alexandra Avenue near Morell Bridge in South Yarra.  The other day my trainer, who like all trainers I suspect is not prone to exaggeration, said to me 'Look at that vista, Jane.  This must be the best place to train in the world'.    So I took a photo this morning to show you all.

(View of part of the city taken from Morell Bridge, 6.04 am)

(view of some of the rowers on the Yarra River)

Now, to the point of this post.  Yes, it has a point.

A couple of weeks ago I had a severe bout of gastro.  After I recovered I made the mistake of looking in the mirror.  Looking back at me was Actual Death.   So I went straight to High Street where every second shop is a beauty salon, and immediately got a facial.  The excellent lady also sold me many Vitamin C, Vitamin A, soothing, cleansing bits of cream and potion.  

After a week of ill judged and overzealous application of the paint stripper cosmeceuticals my skin was peeling off in strips and had gone red and blotchy.  Note to self: when she says just one pump she means just one, not 5. 

I was getting reasonably desperate and then I remembered this product, currently residing in my daughter's room.  Lucas Pawpaw Ointment is made of fermented paw paw (papaya).  It is spruiked as great for 'boils, burns, chaffings, cuts, cracked skin, gravel rash, splinters, open wounds, insect bits and nappy rash'.   I use it all the time on the children's bottoms and elbows.  

I slathered it over my face and two days later, my skin is perfect.
 

The ointment is made in Brisbane, you can read about it here. 

I love this stuff so much I want to share it with you.   I realise that if you live in Australia you can buy it very cheaply from the local chemist.  But still you can NEVER have too much.

If you leave a comment, and are a follower, I will put you in the draw to win the biggest tub I can find plus a handy purse tube. 

Giveaway is open until close of business 29 November 2010. If you post about it, you get an extra entry.

Happy Monday. 

xoxo

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Being a Recycled Baby Alien Plum

A lot has changed at my school in the 25 years since I left.  And I know this because my daughter now goes there so I can make constant forensic and slightly obsessive comparisons.   

To whit, check out these differences:

• they learn Mandarin, not French.
• they have a philosophy class where they learn to ask things like 'If 7/11s are open 24 hours a day why do they need to have locks on the door?' 
• they have values, which include respect and kindness and bullying is frowned upon.
• every week there is a gold coin day for an unheard of but worthy charity.
• they go on interesting excursions to places like the Footscray Market to buy Vietnamese vegetables and fruit which they then learn about, cook and eat.
• there are no winners in the house sports competitions.  There are 'finishers' and people who 'competed'.
• maths is studied on line at home and school by logging on to Mathletics which treats maths as a game.
• they have a market garden where they make compost, breed butterflies and harvest cauliflower.
• they have 'Nude Food' days where you have to rip the wrappers off the bars before they go into the lunchbox because everyone's lunch waste is weighed and tallied.
• they have groovy teachers who ride red scooters to school and wear leggings. 
• they are taught to give presentations to large numbers from an early age (I didn't have to do this until I was 25 which gave me a crippling case of the red and blushies).
• they have to wear their hats everywhere and noone has a suntan.
• the maintenance workers and gardeners are young surfie types not slightly creepy \ mad older men.

And nowhere are these differences more apparent than in the annual Christmas Concert,    which was held this week. Quite a long time before Christmas, you may say.  Well it may as well be, because the concert has nothing to do with Christmas. Instead, it is a Celebration of Learning.   This week's concert was about a baby alien who landed in my daughter's school and was amazed by all the things the girls had done.   Since starting school, my daughter has dressed up in a bewildering array of non Christmassy characters for her Christmas Concert:

• a plum
• a star
• a farmer
• the rain
• Autumn

I loved the concert.  It was touching and cute.  They were all so nervous, and so excited.  The dancing was sweet and slightly imperfect, and my reticent little girl stood up and spoke her line loudly and proudly, which I know was not easy for her. 

And like the last 5 concerts,  recycling and the environment were prominentlyy mentioned.   Maybe recycling is the new religion.   

But, and I say this as a largely non denominational person,  just a teeny tiny little bit of me would like to see either:

• a Christmas concert with Christmas Carols, and two children inappropriately dressed as Mary and Joseph with a local screaming baby as Jesus in the manger and the Three Kings in the background or
• a concert which looks at the way other cultures celebrate their key festivals or religious days..............

Is it just me?

(All images via Sarah Kaye)

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AM's Compass

'Your inner knowing is your only true compass' (Joy Page)

Last year I won a compass wall art \ decal thingy in a giveaway.  The giver of this wonderful decoration was the wonderful AM.  Of course it was entirely coincidental that my son's room has a kind of nautical bent.   So it suits it to a tee. 

I have been meaning to post pictures of the compass in situ for months now.   This giveaway was so typical of AM, generous and perfect. 

Ancient Chinese boy doll on my son's bed.  (Sorry for blurs. I am hoping Father Christmas will come through for me this year with a new camera - I am a bit over the rubbish photos this one takes.)

Decal above his bed

AM is having a terrible time at the moment.  Whilst I generally believe that nobody (regardless of who they are) deserves bad things to happen to them,  this applies especially to someone like AM who has a fantastic positive attitude to life, and is a great mother, with pretty damn good taste too. 

If you have not already, please go visit her and give her some big electronic Kiss Hug Action.

xoxo

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I Love My Stickblender

Nigella Lawson's new book Kitchen has a couple of useful chapters about the way she sets out and designs her kitchens, what she uses in terms of knives etc and very interestingly, the appliances she loves and those she is ashamed of purchasing. 

I declare upfront - as you can see by this picture of our kitchen. I do not share her dislike of a zen kitchen and I don't agree you can't cook properly in such a kitchen.   Whilst it is true, it does not always look like this, I find that as with an office, I can't concentrate properly if there is crap everywhere.  

As you can see, all food groups are represented in my kitchen (bread, red wine and herbs) 

I do however share her dislike of pointless appliances (and I speak as someone who doesn't even have a microwave, which sometimes makes me feel like a wartime bride).  This is partly because we don't have a huge amount of benchspace, and you have to have appliances to hand if you are going to use them.  I found her list of what she considers critical very interesting.    You can see from this image (taken some time ago, I would say at least 10 years) that she has always liked her kitchens to have everything within reach. 

Nigella in her kitchen (photo by Paul Clements)

These kitchens illustrates perfectly why I don't like lots of stuff piled up.  Where is the bench space?

Here is Nigella's list of key appliances and kitchen equipment:

1.   Potato ricer

2.   Rice cooker.

3.   Timer (must be portable so you can do other things whilst food is cooking).

4.   Electric whisk (if you have ever tried to make meringue by hand whisking you will see the wisdom of this).

5. Free standing mixer like a Kitchenaid.

6. Stick blender.

7. Food processor.

8. Thermometers (meat and candy).

9. Mezzaluna.

10. Graters. 

And in her Kitchen Hall of Shame? Appliances including a yoghurt maker, professional icecream maker, electric jam maker, electric grater and electric waffle maker. 

I actually love my icecream maker. If you have children, as you can whip up a sorbet in no time at all.    I also think those manual pasta makers are fun to do with the children, but otherwise you don't use them much.    

My completely and absolutely must have kitchen appliance is a stick blender like the ones Bamix make, which I use for soups, curry pastes, pesto, chopping nuts, mincing meat and everything in between.   They are not very expensive at all.  

Being a Good Wife, and always trying to improve myself, it did make me wonder if there was some appliance I might need which I don't have.   I started thinking about this when someone emailed me this ad this week. 

I can assure you if I received either of these for Christmas I would be officially over the moon:
 

Magimix see through toaster

I know, I know everyone laughed when this toaster was released.  I certainly did.  But I have come around a bit. If you are a litle bit obsessive, as I fear I may be, and just a little bit distrustful of your toaster and its cunning plots, you will be constantly popping the toast up to check its shade of brown.  So, I admit it, I can now see the logic. 

Kitchen Aid Premium Stand Mixer in steel grey

To bake properly, you need a mixer.  This is what I am told anyway. I am not really a baker, or a dessert maker, but if I had one I would probably do it more.   


And for completeness, my list of pointless appliances:

1. Sandwich Maker (too hard to clean.  An Italian friend taught me to make toasted sandwiches in a fry pan over heat, squashing the sandwich down by pressing a plate on it and resting a heavy tin on top.  And student-y as it is, I still do it this way).

2. Juicer (too hard to clean. Yes, there is a theme emerging here (laziness)).

3. Rice cooker (in spite of what Nigella says, I find I get really good results using the good old absorption method over the stove top).   We did have one once, and I am ashamed to say I threw it out after a few years. 

4. Popcorn maker (please.  You can hold the lid on a pot can't you?)

5.  Exploitative Baby Food appliances (you know, the ones that prey on your paranoid fear you will kill your baby by food poisoning him or her - baby food trays and containers, mini baby food mashers and choppers and heaters etc.  Read Smitten Kitchen's sensible suggestions about how to do baby food without all of these extra things).

6.  Gimmicky things like a 'Muffin Maker' (in an online spiel for this I read this pitch 'Compact and easy to use, it cooks three large, light and fluffy muffins without the hassle of pre-heating the oven.'  Because you know what a hassle it is to twist a knob right? And besides, who ever needs only three muffins?)  

And finally, I have heard speak of a magical German appliance called a Thermomix which can allegedly chop, beat, mix, whip, grind, knead, mince, grate, juice, blend, heat, stir, steam and weigh food.  So, you put the ingredients in, and 30 seconds later, risotto is produced.    It sounds like something JK Rowling would come up with.  Like the see through toaster I started laughing when I heard about this.   Does anyone have one? 

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