Ice Palaces and Nicoise Salad

Whilst I loathe any family member being away from me, I have to confess that if my husband is away for work, I get just a tiny bit excited about a night at home alone.   It is not that I can't do what I want with him around but I do love the pottering around in silence.  Eating by candlelight by myself. Listening to the sound of the rain if it comes.  Watching a little bit of rubbish television whilst cooking dinner.   Curling up on the couch with Pepper the cat purring happily on my lap.   

He is a non tuna or salmon eater (unless raw), so as if spiting him, I always cook myself some salmon or tuna for dinner.

Tonight, here it is, a tuna nicoise salady thing.  

This is very easy.   So easy it does not even require a recipe but know this:  for perfectly cooked tuna and salmon, put a bit of oil on, pop on a tray, put in a cold oven and turn to 120 degrees. It will be cooked to perfectly medium rare in 25 minutes.  

Tomorrow night will be a salmony rice thing. 

And then, it is important to watch something he wouldn't be interested in watching for the millionth time.  Tonight it is:

I would love to have wallpaper in this image -  I love the combination of yellow with the birch trees.  It still looks modern all these years later.    The truth is I will not get through the whole film in one night.  I am a bit tired at the moment for that.  But even half is better than nothing. 

And of course it has one of my all time favourite scenes:

Did you know this ice covered house was filmed in the heat in Spain? It is not snow at all but white marble dust.  

It's pretty cold here at the moment, and in fact I have a fur hat just like Julie Christie's.  It is made of possum fur though (I bought it in New Zealand where the enlightened government allows the use of possum fur in clothes) not mink or whatever hers is and so is more ethically acceptable.

And of course, I pyjama up, with face mask on.  At the moment, it is this: 

This stuff is brilliant.  6 sachets for $30, and I use only half a sachet at a time.   Such great value and it gives my skin that tingling feeling which is compulsory if you want to feel it is doing any good.  

Weird Chemo Side Effect No 5: my hair is growing back.  Again.  This time, am not counting on it.  I just ignore the way it looks and tell myself I will worry about it in July.  Oh and I have little pins and needles in my fingertips. This is called neuropathy and is quite normal. In fact my oncologist said it is good if I have it it means I am responding to chemo.     Sometimes I think he says things just to cheer me up.  I dread to think what he must say to his really sad patients.     Mostly we seem to shoot the breeze about books and the latest Herceptin research coming out of New York.  I find it hard to talk about myself all the time.   Side effects and symptoms.  So boring and repetitive. I feel like I am complaining.  Weird but there you have it.    

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Good Things Autumn 2011: Burmese Statues and Gwyneth Paltrow

The little things are infinitely the most important (Arthur Conan Doyle). 

In the face of bone aching fatigue last week, I have found lots of pleasure in tiny achievements.

Like this embroidered cushion I found at Safari.  In the background is my fiddle leaf fig tree, which almost died when I was in hospital in January because no one thought to give it the thimble full of water it needs to survive each week. I am slowly nursing it back to health but it is still too straggly.  Such a shame because it had a beautiful full shape when I first bought it.  

Pepper the Burmese cat managed to knock over this (Burmese!) statue we have in the front hall.  Of course the Burmese army had already taken care of her head, feet and arms (the statue I mean not the cat).   But her leg broke in two. I fixed it with Kwik Grip or something equally unmentionable.  I know that is not the correct way to mend supposedly ancient Asian artefacts but there you have it.  You can barely see the mend line. 

I don't mind being called Princess Jane by my daughter.  Note the little copyright symbol. It is not easy to explain the concept of copyright to an 8 year old but I think we got there.   And now her intellectual property is protected!

Oh Scanlan & Theodore how I love thee.  And your grey cardigans.  No I don't need another to add to the collection.  But it called my name and its siren song was answered.

Australian candle with Liberty-esque wrapping.   It's true I bought it mostly for the presentation.  Very superficial I know.  It smells nice but I still think Americans (think Tocca, Voluspa) make the best candles. 

Can we talk about Gwyneth?  I almost felt a bit ashamed buying this book and my husband teased me for a good five minutes.   I am completely absolutely anti celebrity chefs. I don't even watch Master Chef which is practically a crime in Australia.  I have no celebrity chef books. I loathe Gordon Ramsay.  I liked Nigella when she was thin and wrote for UK Vogue in the early 1990s.   I still love her books but only because I was an early adopter and she writes so well.

And Gwyneth herself is so multi talented, with her unusually named children, not very good interior design taste (at least that is what I think - check out these pics of her NY apartment), very nice Hampton's kitchen, okay singing voice, macrobiotic passions, kind of saccharine website and wardrobe to die for.  She's so earnest.   And that can be annoying.

But this book really resonated with me.    There are a few reasons for this. 

First, she speaks authentically of her love for her father (who died several years ago from complications of throat cancer) and her naive belief that he could be cured if he changed his diet.  (As an aside I have thought many times since my diagnosis whether my diet could be a cause. I think I eat pretty really well but according to the evil Internet breast cancer can be caused by all kinds of things ranging from milk to coffee.  It is of course so natural to blame yourself for these things (was it stress? was it the pollution from the street? what about deodorant? Could that be the cause?) and diet is always high up the list.)  Her father taught her to love to cook and eat.  He loved American foods: burgers, pancakes, hotdogs et al, and some of his recipes find their way into the book.  

Second, she really wants her children to eat well, cook with her, and to share magical times around the table.  This too is what I want for my children.  And I am at the stage where my son won't eat green or slightly green tinged things and my daughter won't eat most butter or dairy products.  So I am desperate to cook them things they will eat with enthusiasm.  And this notion of hiding the good items in what you cook for children is weird.   I want them to know what they are eating and come to love it naturally. 

Third, this book made me want to cook and eat.   Surely there can be no higher recommendation? These days of course we can get any recipe we want for free.  So why buy a cookbook?  I look for a way of viewing cooking which I can relate to.  Presumably if you enjoy cooking one or two of a favourite cookbook writer's recipes, you will enjoy cooking more.  That is why our Marcella Hazan cookbooks are falling apart through overuse.

Over the weekend I cooked the following from this book: kale crisps, cheesy stuffed burgers, duck burgers, macaroni cheese (which she makes with mascarpone and Parmesan), oatmeal and raisin cookies (no butter and no eggs), white bean soup with cheesey croutons, zucchini with pasta and berries with caramelised cream.   All the recipes worked well, and the children loved them all.

This is not a macrobiotic book by any means. There is a lot of cheese and dairy and eggs and pancakes.  There are also some nice zen meals like soba noodles and savoury rice bowl. 

Finally, I have ticked a few book purchases off the to-do list.

Two books for my husband's birthday which always must be history although unfortunately Mr Fitzsimons is a journalist which may make the history a bit 'chatty and accessible' which my husband does not like at all.   Oh well.

And the new Geraldine Brooks book set in Martha's Vineyard in the 1660s.  If you have not already, please read her earlier books - Year of Wonders (set in plague torn England) and March (Dr March from Little Women's experiences in the Civil War) are both completely brilliant. 

And truly finally, some toast with avocado, fetta, mint and olive oil has been giving me much comfort lately.

I am so boring that I realise as typing this that I have already done an avocado on toast post.  But I love it so much. 

In fact I think I could easily find enough posts to run a 'Things on Toast' blog for a good couple of years (other ideas for alternative blogs - Dollshouses (but that might attract some weirdos) or Celebrities with No Interior Design Taste).

Weird Chemo Side Effect No 4: my eyebrows are definitely thinning out. I hope to hold on to them for the next 6 weeks.  I have probably in the past said something stupid like I will stay in my bedroom for the duration if I lose my eyebrows.  However, now it is potentially happening, I just don't care.  On the bright side, it makes me look just that little bit more like Gwyneth. 

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Accidental Bedhead

Apparently mattresses only last 10 years... so this week we bought another, as ours was 13 years old.

And something odd happened yesterday when it was delivered.  We received a lovely mattress which is truly like sleeping in a very fluffy cloud.  But in addition, we received a large bed base, made of deep mocha suede, which is made to fit with the mattress.  

The invoice is confusing, our order is confusing, the extremely surly delivery man didn't want to talk about it, and the website of the multinational 6 star hotel which also sells beds did not explain exactly what it is we ordered or didn't order.    

So we truly cannot work out whether our new bed base is a mistake, or a kind gift.   I am inclined to the latter, as I sort of deserve a kind gift.   (And it is nice to know there are people out there looking out for me even if it is a global corporation) 

What it does mean is that we need to decommission our bed, and find a bed head.   

As much as I like the drama of the padding, or the shaping, the truth is that I will end up with something plain and simple and dark blue, just like the rest of the room: 

Now I know you can DIY headboards, there are a million little step by steps out there on this.  But I have a confession.  My DIY stuff looks like crap.   So I think I will get a professional to do it.  I have found this place who makes them up to order.    Does anyone know of anywhere else which can do bedheads?   

Weird Chemo Side Effect No 3 - as if I didn't have enough ethico-legal dilemmas to deal with along the lines of should we return the accidentally delivered bed base, I have now discovered that my hair is falling out again, after a short respite where it grew a bit.   There is only one response to this: arrgggghhhh.  My new approach is to not look at my hair at all until this ludicrous and ocassionally surreal experience is over (on 20 June). 

(Images: (1) Pinterest (2) Pinterest (3) Elle Decor (4) Samantha Pymm (5) Canadian House and Home) 

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Royal Wedding Menu Australian style and a White Jacket Rant

Like most of the planet it would seem I will be watching the Royal Wedding tonight.

The Wedding will be telecast in the evening here which makes it ideal timing to watch with an English style meal.  I have been a bit slack and instead of inventing dishes or looking through cookbooks, I just trawled the Internet for some Royal Wedding inspired dishes which are not too hard to cook.

 

First up is a chilled cucumber soup with garlic prawns, in a nod to the very English tradition of cucumber sandwiches.   It is not exactly the weather here for cold soup, but needs must.  

 To me there is nothing more English than lamb and peas.  Which suits me because it is also a quintessentially Australian dish.   I have been eating lots of lamb lately in a probably forlorn attempt to boost my red blood cells.  My favourite way to have lamb is as 
cutlets or possibly a rib eye.  To go with this, the pea dish below, possibly some asparagus (also very English) and some boiled new potatoes with lots of butter and Malden salt. 

This is a dish of peas, mint and salted yogurt (which can be substituted with goats cheese). 

Dessert is a bit tricky.  I have found a lovely recipe by naughty Sophie Dahl for rice pudding with plum compote but I fear rice pudding may just be a bit English boarding school.   Perhaps summer pudding with lots of beautiful berries would be better.  I think the most traditional dessert would be Eton Mess but I am not in the meringue making mode today. 

Finally, to drink.   I don't drink spirits but this is my metaphorical tipple today - elderflower and gin sherbert.     

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Julia Gillard, the Australian Prime Minister, is invited to the wedding.   Ms Gillard is very very fond of distracting, unflattering, flappy white jackets.  It may seem to a casual observer that she just wears the same one all the time, but in fact she has 9 (yes 9) different ones.  Here are two of them.   I think that sometime in the past someone told her she looks great in that white jacket, and she has taken the message to heart. 

So my message is:  Please do not wear a white jacket to the Royal Wedding.  Please.   It seems that this issue is of major concern to many bloggers, perhaps we need to get a life?!  See Mrs Woog's take on it here. 

And before I am accused of being sexist for commenting on a female politician's clothes when I wouldn't on a man's clothes, let me say this:  any professional person should dress in a way which does not distract from the message they are delivering. That applies in all spheres.   Yes, it is easy for men to wear suits, but it is equally easy for women to wear simply stylish non distracting clothes which fit (case in point: Senator Penny Wong).  I am not criticising our PM's taste (although it is dubious), I am criticising the way her clothes don't fit her, and distract from what she does.   And if a male PM wore bell bottoms, a brown suit and a plaid tie with a mullet haircut (which I think is the male equivalent of some of Ms Gillard's outfits), then that person would be equally criticised. 

Enjoy the wedding......

(Images: (1) BBC Food (2) Taste.com (3) Notebook (4) BBC Food (5) Jamie Oliver))

 

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Copycatting Sequins and Frills

Although I do a lot most of my clothes shopping online, I still would like to support local designers.   And I do, as much as possible.   And I, like anyone, love the convenience of visiting a local boutique and picking up a lovely knitted top or some such.   (My husband jokes that I have enough 'little knitted tops' to stock a whole store and that lots of $79 tops do add up to quite a sum over the years) 

I popped into Witchery yesterday to be confronted by a sea of biscuit, buff, beige, dark caramel, mushroom, sand, taupe, umber, ochre and khaki.    It was really quite frightening.   

In fact I think what has happened is that Witchery and Country Road have hired a colour consultant from the Australian Defence Force, who has bulk dipped all the new seasons range of clothes into big vats of their uniform dyes.   Who wants to get around looking like an army off cast?   Or as if you have stepped off the set of a Bruce Willis action thriller set in Iraq?  I don't.   

The only people who can wear these kinds of clothes are lithe olive skinned Eve Mendes types.  Not me.

But the fact that Witchery looks like an army disposals store wasn't the most alarming thing about my visit. The most alarming thing was this:

(Witchery new season) 

(J Crew last season and also still available in slightly new design new season)

(J Crew Last season - Witchery also have something like this but I have no image for it) 

Then I went into the new Kids section and found these:

(Witchery new season girls tulle skirt)

(J Crew girls tulle skirt)

 (Witchery girls zip through top)

(J Crew girls wave cardigan)

Let me be clear: I know that there are very few new ideas in fashion. I am sure it is a hard slog churning out a range four or five times a year, and these hard working designers need to source their inspiration in lots of different places.  And that may include a High Street retailer from the US.  I also know very well there is no copyright in an idea, and ideas are everywhere, just waiting to be adapted and changed.   And people ripping off J Crew is not a new controversy - see here for example.

And of course no doubt the original idea for a sequiny T shirt came not from J Crew but from the Lanvin catwalk or some such. I guess I just feel oh so slightly affronted. I want to support these Australian businesses.   But when there is no longer any style differentiation between these brands and the cheaper (often better made) US ones then the decision kind of makes itself doesn't it? 

It may just be me. I could blame the chemo for making my brain really annoyed by obvious creativity bypasses.  Or do you agree? 

Weird Chemo Side Effect no 2: my hair has started growing back!! Only half way through chemo too.  It may yet fall out again, but it is kind of exciting. 

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A Morning in The Life Of...

6.45 am - Small Ironman son runs into our bedroom shouting 'Is it morning is it morning is it morning?'  My usual response: 'It isn't morning until mummy says it is' doesn't cut the mustard anymore. Small Ironman climbs into our bed for a cuddle.   Lies on his back wide awake asking questions about his day and telling us about Tom and Alex and other little friends in a loud non-morning voice.   

6.50 am - Run to Pharmaceutical Cornucopia (PC) on kitchen bench and take one tablet of PSK (which is otherwise known as Trammune or Trametes Versicolor (a kind of common mushroom) and must be eaten 30 mins before food).

6.52 am - Have shower.  Showers are quite fun at moment, with almost no hair.   I don't have to worry about getting it too wet.  Or washing it hardly ever.  And the water feels lovely on my head.  Son sits and talks to me in non-morning voice whilst I shower.  Son has no volume knob, it seems, so I have given up asking him to use inside voice.

7.00 am - Get dressed into clothes laid out night before.  Son very concerned I am dressed before him. 'Are you going to work today?' I tell him going to hospital to have more bad medicine.  'Oh' he says, losing interest immediately.  'Can I watch some TV now?'

7.05 am - Return to PC and take 3 tablets of Reishi, another kind of mushroom.    This is in tablet form because fresh Reishi not cleared to come from Japan yet due to earthquake.  Get son milk to drink whilst the Avengers is on.
 
7.08 am - Make peanut butter on toast for son.   Present toast to son.  Son cries because toast not in exact square shape.   Cut crusts off to make squarer.   Present for second time. Son says he has changed mind and now wants Vegemite and 'yellow butter' on an exact square toast shape.  I ask 'are you serious?' Son laughs demonically, his little kiss curl hanging over his forehead in manner of nursery rhymne boy.

7.12 am - Gargle with some Maldon salt dissolved in water.  This is to prevent ulcers.

7.14 am - Go into daughter's bedroom.  Daughter sound asleep and spread out across bed with bed coverings all askew, university student style.  Daughter is only 8 though.  Tell her time to get up.  Bribe her with toast and raspberry and vanilla jam.  Daughter moans and says not hungry and really really tired.  Wonder what daughter will be like as 13 year old.  Or 18 year old.

7.16 am - Take one tablet of green conifer needle oil.    I take these three times a day.  They prevent thrush and so far have worked really well.

7.18 am - Give Pepper the cat breakfast.    Pepper smells his breakfast disdainfully (it's too cold) and walks away, tail held high.

7.20 am - Ask son why he has not eaten second breakfast.  He says he has changed mind again and doesn't want his square toast.  I say 'I am not a restaurant.  Or a cafe.  Or even a greasy spoon type place desperate for customers.   No more breakfasts'.  Son's bottom lip starts to stick out.  I offer him Greek yogurt with passion fruit. Son smiles and says 'Yummy yes please'.

7.22 am Take Codonopsis.  This is a Chinese herb known as poor man's ginseng, which can strengthen the immune system and help white and red blood cell counts. I take it as an extract dripped into a glass of water.

7.25 am - Re-enter teenage style daughter's room and turn light up really bright and tell her it is definitely absolutely time to get up.   And breakfast is on table and getting cold.

7.27 am - Eat cereal, half heartedly because it doesn't taste of much, just a cardboardy texture.  Drink beetroot and carrot juice.  Appreciate again the magic of the pointless huge juicer my mother gave me 4 years ago which now gets lots of use.

7.30 am - Take little homeopathic ball thing. Suck slowly.  Not sure what this is for, to be perfectly honest. Stare a little resentfully at husband sitting in relaxed fashion at kitchen bench reading IPad.

7.32 am - Do makeup.  Cover freckles with lots of Nars foundation.  Use really excellent Chantecaille magical skin creams for chemo skin.  Think again how much I love Mecca Cosmetica and the lady who has sold me all this great stuff.
7.40 am - Hear husband asking daughter to get out of bed.   Hear husband forcing her to get dressed.  Hear husband spending lots of time picking correct cream socks for her, and getting the seams around the right way and the shoe buckles done up tight enough (otherwise they 'hurt').

7.45 am - Put wig on, ruffle it and smile.

7.50 am - Dress son.  Persuade son that he can't wear Batman, Spiderman, Soldier or Superman costume to kindergarten. Son says loudly 'I am NOT wearing long sleeves ever. I am NEVER cold'.  Allow son to wear shorts and short sleeved T shirt even though quite cold outside.  Grab small backpack shove in lunchbox and dump at door.    Grab daughter's lunch box shove in school bag and dump at door.

7.52 am - Drink lovely coffee made by husband.  Think about how looking forward to sitting down for three hours during chemo.  Notice daughter has not touched her breakfast.  

7.55 am - Assemble handbag must haves including Kindle, IPhone, wallet, book with cancer notes, cards, invoices, receipts, referrals etc.  Put nail polish in bag.  Take nail polish out again, concerned doing nails during chemo might appear flippant.  Decide do not care because never otherwise sit still for long enough to do nails.    

7.57 am - Go into daughter's bedroom to check she is ready to go.  She is sitting on the floor counting her pocket money. 'Mummy will the shops accept pence? What about Bali money?  What about Singapore money? Where can we exchange it?'  Then she shows me the rearrangement of her wardrobe, with lined up shoes in rainbow order.  Then shows me her redecoration of the dolls house, with a new piano room, and an outdoor camping area. Then remember we have forgotten PE bag and Library bag and cello and piano books.  Feel pleased am not dragging all that to school.  Wonder about possible deterioration of daughter's back when she is older.   

8.00 am - Gently heat up one cup of Chinese herbal drink, painstakingly made by me every three days.  This needs to be drunk half an hour after food.  My Chinese doctor has told me the ingredients but as he just wrote out the Chinese names they don't mean much to me.   Helps my digestion no end, however. Drink it quickly because doesn't taste very nice.  Feel pleased taste buds not very effective at the moment.

8.01 am - Kiss all and sundry good bye and drive to East Melbourne for chemo.   

(This morning was brought to you by my homeopath and Chinese Doctor and Percy, Imogen and Martin.)  

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A Blackbird for Birthday Week

We have celebrated two birthdays this week.   Mine (age undisclosed) and the very next day, my son's (four). 

(bionicles in disarray, half cloned and cross bred)

I could uncharitably point out here that my son, by being born three days later than anticipated, rather manages to steal my birthday thunder every year , but the truth is that he makes the week more thrilling, excited as he is about his new age.   In fact, he has talked of little else for months - his new age, how big he will be, how he may one day be bigger than his sister, and so on and so on.

And having birthdays so close allows for some handy comparisons between our two birthdays. 

This was my gift  from my husband.  

Blackbird by Dean Bowen

Look familiar?  I have a Dean Bowen painting on the sidebar of this blog.  If my husband read my blog, which he claims not to, he would know how much I love Dean Bowen's work.    But he doesn't and yet he still picked this painting for me, which makes my heart sing just a little.

This is one of my son's presents.  Yes, Woody talks.  All the time. He has 60 sayings in fact.  And no, it is not annoying in the least.

And finally, birthday food.  This image captures both types:

I made the robot cake from the new Women's Weekly Classic Children's Birthday Cake Book which has just been reprinted.  (If you would like to see an example of the special place this book has in many Australians' hearts, see Melbourne Gastronome's post on this book).

The robot needs a bit of back support, but apart from that my son deemed him sufficiently robot like.   They are quite a lot of effort to ice aren't they?  I felt as if I had completed a particularly difficult test when I finished him up. 

In the background, grown up birthday food: Riesling and chocolate gingerbread.

I had mixed feelings about this birthday. I didn't feel a glorious rushing gratitude to be alive, but I did have a quiet and calm day, and thought about how lucky I am.

My allegedly so called bad chemo has now ended after 9 weeks and I have survived it apart from an endless cold \ throat thing almost certainly brought on by an in hindsight possibly foolish decision to fly to Sydney for the day for work last week.    

Next week I start 12 weeks of weekly Taxol and Herceptin, both delivered intravenously.   This is a disheartening thought, but apparently Taxol is largely bearable.  

Weird Chemo Side Effect No 1:  my freckles have come back.  It is no exaggeration to say that I have not put my face in the sun for 25 years.  Two weeks ago something must have happened to my skin pigmentation, and all those little freckles popped back onto my face. I guess they were always there, and must have just faded.    Makes me look a bit like Anne of Green Gables.  Or Tom Sawyer....

Interesting Chemo Fact No 1:  Taxol is not chemical at all.  It derives from the Pacific Yew tree.  Now who thought to see if that tree had medical benefits? 


xoxo 

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