La Cheshire Chat : Further Adventures in France

Dukan week 16: sometimes life gets in the way, huh?

2011-06-13T23:45:00.003+02:00

My weight fluctuated like the stock market this week; up, down, up, down. But in the end, by Friday, I was at 81kg, so, another 500g released into the fat ether. The photo above and the two below were taken by my eldest daughter yesterday, Pentecostal Sunday, just after Church. I'm very happy my neck has slimmed down and my cheekbones are apparent now, and not hidden behind a wad of adipose tissue.

I'm trying for demure, did I pull it off?

While taking the photo, my daughter cleverly used part of the staircase to hide one hip and thigh... good girl!

So, here's the proof:

As of Friday 10 June 2011, 81kg.

Oh happy moi!

I am having this incredible pleasure in trying on clothes, because THEY FIT ME. I know I need to firm up, I still jiggle like a bowl full of jelly (or Jell-O, for my American readers,) but it is still coming off, very very slowly, but then, the Grand Canyon wasn't created in a day, now was it?

Nor Rome.

~~Nor the current financial mess the USA finds itself in.~~ (Oops, no Politics, sorry.)

I said this to someone today, and I think it bears repeating here. What do you want to look like next year at this time? Do you want to be closer to your ideal weight or do you really want to be where you are right now? Heh, no judgements, it is after all, your life and YOU are the one that lives it, no one else.

IF you want to lose weight because you are depressed or miserable about your appearance, then simply just begin, NOW. I mean right now, not next Monday or next weekend or next month, or when you get paid, take the first step right this instant. Then the next instant, just continue. Keep stringing the moments together and YOU WILL get where you want to go. Yes, it takes willpower. Yes you will have to face up to WHY you overeat and gained weight in the first place and NO, that will not be easy, nor will it be comfortable nor will it be over in an instant.

But time will pass, whether you want it to or not and next year will be here before you know it, so, you might as well be doing something constructive in the meantime.

YOU just need to have confidence in YOU.

Go on, do it. And then come back here and let me know how you are doing. I'll try to find a cheerleader outfit and some pom-poms and cheer you on.
Well, ok, I'll do that AFTER I firm up the thighs....

Hugs and quiches from Kitty x

Dukan week 15 - results!

2011-06-05T23:49:00.000+02:00

Carbs are what slap me down, big time, every time. I can easily inhale an entire warm baguette, it hardly touches the sides, a croissant is nothing but net. Seriously.

By why eat it if I don't even taste and enjoy it? Yeah, why indeed. So I just try my hardest to avoid it.

I've had good days of walking, like the other day down the canal with the girls and a close friend and her Kiki dog. Then on other days, I'll just hobble around the house, barely able to put weight on my foot the tendon is so sore and painful I've even taken to using the crutches, occasionally. There just seems no rhyme or reason to it, one day ouch, the other, no big deal. So swings and roundabouts, I guess. Just a few more days and I see the Specialist in Saint Brieuc and find out my options. (Hopefully.)

I worked hard to keep carbs and fat down so some weight would shift. So, even though the walking was spotty, I did get the results I wanted:

81.5kg! I'm only a week or so from breaking through the 80kg barrier!

Pat on the back for that.

OK, now... let's discuss other issues, shall we? The next post I'm going to talk about what happens when you lose a LOT of weight. And what I plan on doing about that.

You will want to skip it if photos of a 50-something flabby woman might shock or scare you. :)

Hugs and quiches from Kitty.

Dukan week, uh, let's call it week 14

2011-06-01T17:36:00.000+02:00

So I thought I'd go see what my BMI would be if I lost a silly amount of weight, went down to what I was in my 20's. Say, something ridiculous like... 60kg. Hahaha.

Height: 1.64 meters
Weight: 60 kilograms

Your BMI is 22.3, indicating your weight is in the Normal category for adults of your height.
For your height, a normal weight range would be from 49.8 to 67 kilograms.

NORMAL???

Wow. Well, darn.

OK, so a bit more to go, you could say.

Here is a recipe:

Kitty's Quick & Cheap Tomato Soup for Cruise.
Makes one litre / 4 servings.
Ingredients:

500 g Sieved Tomato Passata or Tomato Purée
2 tbsp Garlic Powder or dried garlic
1 tbsp Oregano, Dried
1 tsp Crushed Red Pepper
1 Chicken Bouillon Cube
500 ml Hot Water

Directions
Place hot water and tomato passata into a medium saucepan. Crumble in the bouillon cube and oregano. Sprinkle over the dried garlic and the crushed red pepper to taste. Bring all ingredients to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes to allow the garlic time to absorb water and soften. Eat!
I also grate Parmesan over this using a Microplane, it adds minimal calories and fat but maximum taste!

Serving size 250 ml /approx 1 US cup
Total Fat 1.12g
Saturated Fat 0.28g
Cholesterol 0mg
Sodium 640.56mg (depending upon the stock cube and the tomato passata/purée)
Total Carbohydrate 10.15g
Dietary Fiber 0.97g
Sugars 1.58g
Protein 3.16g

Hugs and quiches from Kitty

The Rapture, or, Throwing a party and the Guest of Honour fails to appear.

2011-05-29T20:09:00.000+02:00

Yes, very VERY awkward, at least for the dozens or more who actually quit their jobs, spent all their money and otherwise burned their bridges.

OK, Jesus, but you DID say...

Folks, if some Yahoo who is spouting stuff he couldn't possibly know himself ALSO has a 'Donate' button on their website, well, it's rather some kinda clue, now isn't it?

Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but, I'm still here! A week later and still not a thing has occurred.
Actually, The Rapture happened but none of us were deemed worthy of being called. You might have found one of these on your front door, like I did:

I DID think about it long and hard, what if something does happen? Hmm. I decided that I'd choose to stay here on Earth. I could be a lot of help to those left behind plus some of my loved ones and dear friends most certainly would not be going anywhere. Plus, what use would I be in Heaven? No, if it's OK with God, Jesus and whomever else decides these things, leave me on Earth to help those in need. Heaven can wait, so to speak. I have Eternity.

On the other hand, I suppose if I'm going to end up in Hell, all the Texans and I can get together with my friends from the Desert and install air-conditioning.

So, the Fundies have now decided WHY there are no more dinosaurs here on Earth. No, it was NOT a gigantic comet that hit the Earth or any of that scientific nonsense, nope...

Now doesn't that just make a LOT more sense?

I hope this generated a giggle, that's why I posted on this Fête des Mères. Now I shall leave you with a lovely song that has some lush artwork/animation. Simply beautiful.

Green grass... yes, and I'm thinking the soft green spring wheat..

I hope you enjoy the rest of your weekend, and for me, in my mind I'm sailing into the sunset...

Warm regards and calm winds from Kitty.

Friday the Thirteenth and Dukan Week 13 (Take Three...)

2011-05-27T17:12:00.005+02:00

You have no idea how many times I tried to write this post and failed.

First, it was Blogger. I couldn't even access the site for all of Friday and then on and off over that weekend.
Then, my guests arrived that stayed here for a week. I couldn't really lounge around tapping away on my Blog all day, even though they stayed next door most of the time. I still had two to seven children running around that needed goûters and hot cocoa making and plasters applying.
Then I found out that, due to my ongoing issues with my leg, I can't get a medical certificate allowing me to continue practising épee fencing. I'd started it up again, I am REALLY good at it and it is a fearsome workout. But I have to wait until my leg is 'fixed'.
THEN I fell as I was taking a basket of laundry up the stairs and severely pulled my left Achilles tendon. I didn't actually snap it, like I did to the right one in 2009, but it was enough that I haven't been able to manage a walk until yesterday.
Then I got an x-ray of said legs done, to see why I am having these ongoing pain issues and found the bone spurs on the bottom of my heels have grown back. I look like some kind of fighting chicken. I'm seeing a specialist in Saint Brieuc in a couple weeks to see if I need an operation.
Then I spoke to a very old and dear girlfriend and found out some things about one of my ex-husbands. Well... that kinda was the straw in the ointment and the cookie crumbled for me. It's harsh to find out stuff about oneself, about someone who you 'thought' had at one point held a least a tiny shred of affection (but didn't) and I feel like such a fool. I also guess I know how Diana must have felt when she realised what was going on between Chuck and Cammy.
But I've accepted it, I've worked through it, I've decided it is part of my past and I refuse to think about what was (or was not.) I've now thrown off the blanket of depression and I'm back in the sunshine again.
These above are what I'll call "rationalisations" for not posting on my Blog about my weight.
Banging on about accountability doesn't mean diddlily squat if I don't follow through, even if it is just for myself, so, I apologise to myself and anyone else interested. And I forgive myself and hope you'll do the same.

Even though I was ignoring the Blog, I still kept up with what I've been eating on the Livestrong site. (And if anyone cares about what I actually eat on this regime, my Food Diary is public.) I do what I guess is called 'Emotional Eating'. I might have been unhappy as all get out but those warm, homemade Double Chocolate Chocolate Chip Toasted Pecan cookies sure as hell helped. Especially when dunked into that enormous glass of Cognac. (Which is actually in reserve for my Christmas Fruitcakes, but I digress.)

Did falling off the wagon and breaking my regime REALLY help? No. It gave me the sugar high from Hell and I woke up with a massive hangover the next day. Plus I ended up putting weight right back on, weight I've been fighting to take off and KEEP off! Bloody wol me, that's for sure.

So, with yet another burst of renewed resolve, I began again.

When our friend Kate died, her sister gave me all of her clothes and many of her personal effects to give to Charity or use ourselves. I took about a hundred books down to the AIKB library, about 10 black plastic bags full of clothing down to Secours Catholique (they were delighted because it was all really nice and new, better women's clothing.) But I decided to keep ahold of her shoes and a lot of her 'casual' clothing. It was too small for me but I figured the girls would get 'play clothes' use out of it (and they have.)

Well, in that mass of shoes (30 pairs!) was a pair of MBT trainers. My older daughter wore them one day and said that I should try them. This makes no sense to me, I had tried them on four years ago and it was like Cinderella's Ugly Stepsister and the Glass Slipper, no way José. But, just two days ago, I tried them on again and the left one fit perfect, the right one was a bit snug but ok with thin socks. My FEET have shrunk?

The reason I say anything is because I can walk in these shoes and the pain is reduced probably 75%. I don't NEED to limp. A couple of paracetamol and it's ok. Of course when I take the shoes OFF, then my tendon screams bloody revenge, but, while walking it is lulled into a false sense of security, that's ok by me!

This is from this morning and yes... that is the heavy side of 84kg.

I'm not giving up. I did slow down, I did backslide but I'm still here. That is what is important to me.

I read a fabulous quote from a woman who basically had her stomach removed so she could lose weight.

You can't continue the same behaviour

and expect a different result.

That applies to so many, many situations in my life. I'm in charge of me. It's me that needs to change if I'm not content with my situation, I can't expect the world around me to do so. Evolution just ain't that quick. And I have to keep telling myself this fact over and over. I'm hoping one day it will precede all my actions, even possibly one day it will even precede my thoughts.

I have to keep trying to improve. I'm still a work in progress, yes. And please God may it be many years before the final touches have been applied; I still have a long way to go. And I know it.

Because... I might not measure up to some others, but, I am still me. I am still a valid human being. I have worth. And there's only ONE unique, frustrating, complicated and sometimes silly moi.

And *I* am the one with that Double Chocolate Chocolate Chip Toasted Pecan cookie recipe.
So there!

I wish you a fabulous, sun-drenched and glorious weekend! I'll be back very soon with something completely random and rather nonsensical but fun! :D

Warm regards, Kitty

Uh, yeah.

2011-05-16T17:28:00.001+02:00

Sorry about this, but I've fallen into a slight pit of depression. After I figure how to climb back out, regular service will be resumed.
Kind regards, Kitty

Moments of Joy and Dukan week 11

2011-05-07T20:00:00.001+02:00

I love Savage Chickens.... I posted this because I use imagination A LOT. I have these ongoing conversations, in my mind, with important people in my life, people I no longer have contact with. Like my Mother, my Father, people from my past.
I also have this great parallel world I inhabit with The Man I Love. I don't spend my entire life there, but it helps me when I'm feeling vulnerable. I can imagine his strong arms around me, I can bury my face into his chest and feel safe. And loved.

Then I return to reality and face what I need to face. A bit stronger. Not quite so alone.

How was your week?

Mine just flew by. I had a houseful of both girls' school friends running about, chattering in French, playing hide & seek or 'cache-cache', creating 'forts, dens and cabins' and munching on my proffered baked goodies while drinking big mugs of hot chocolate. It was great, I really loved it. Everyone was happy and the sound of laughter rang through the place all week. Brilliant.

I decided to allow my Sour Cream Streusel Coffeecake recipe to have an affair with my Chocolate Chip Cookie recipe and they created a Cupcake/Muffin Love Child. The smell was intoxicating coming straight out of the oven. The top had caramelised into this buttery caramel crust. I tried it. It was.... unbelievable... so... I ended up eating three more. And two more today. Which just proves I can't be trusted alone in a kitchen with my own baked goods.

No... now that you've asked, they aren't in the LEAST Dukan friendly. I still tracked them on my Livestrong My Plate thing. Then skipped dinner. And took a very long walk. And did a LOT of these 'Butt Busting' exercises.

I'm not posting the recipe because you'll hate me. Plus, a woman has to have SOME secrets, you know....

(If you know me in real life, and ask nicely, I'll bake some for you. But you have to come pick them up.)

Today's quote is really good, so, I want to share it with you:

"I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear." - Nelson Mandela

I still have many, many fears. The fear that I will die alone, forgotten, in poverty. The fear that I won't be able to provide for my children. The fear that I will fail. The fear that I'll never be forgiven for mistakes I've made. And probably the worst fear of all: the fear that my best just isn't good enough.

I live with these fears. They can never control me, but, they still sneak out from time to time and torment me. But by naming them, I take away some of their control and power over me. My fears can never stop me from laughing, can never stop me from enjoying my now, my present. I know they'll still be around tomorrow, I know I can never completely get rid of them all. But, that's OK with me. I can laugh at myself. Laughter is a very powerful weapon in my arsenal.

The fear I will always be fat, obese, ugly, unhealthy and un-sexy is gone. My silhouette is normal, now. Even though the weight loss has slowed down considerably, it is still happening. I look OK without clothes, I don't shudder looking at myself in a mirror. Yes, I am super-duper flabby; you don't go from a lifetime high of over 21 stones down to under 13 without looking like a deflated blimp, this is true. I know I need to focus on toning up, but that's going to be a very long and ongoing process. I have lots of muscles that have been asleep for years. So, I'm starting gradually.

So, 82kg. A bit more released into the fat ether which I don't need to have return again. That makes 16kg / 2 1/2 stones / 35 pounds total reduction in the last 11 weeks. I'm really pleased with that. Add to it the fact I feel fantastic!!! Stepping on the scales yesterday was a moment of joy. Because even though I fluffed up, a bit, and made stupid food choices, I was able to correct it by extra exercise and knowing I haven't failed at my regime, not whatsoever. I make mistakes, I forgive myself, I make amends and carry on. The sun rises in the morning, tomorrow is another chance and another day. A brand new day. Perfect seque for some Sting, eh?

Sting - Brand New Day...

sting songs | music videos | lyrics

I hope you have a fabulous week!
Hugs and quiches from Kitty x

Look on the Bright Side and Dukan week 10

2011-04-29T13:48:00.000+02:00

Enjoy your life.

Because life is ephemeral.

Just like these blooms captured around our garden, it will fade away.

The cycle of birth, death and rebirth is fixed in the seasons and is a sure, steady reminder that nothing stays the same, the only real constant is change.

Just remember: You get exactly what you settle for.

If there is nothing we can do about change, then, might as well enjoy the ride, correct?

The Springtime flowers, brief though they may be, are glorious.

Love, true love, however, is constantly changing, developing and undying and even if it burns down to just a small hidden flame, it is still there. It still exists.

So love deeply, whatever or whomever you choose as you heart's desire. But give it all you have. It's one of the best things about being human, and being alive.

When God was passing out Lives, why did I have to stand in the "Seriously Complicated, Mostly Unfulfilled, Often Stressful but Ultimately Character-Building" queue? I'm guessing I was busy reading a book and wasn't paying attention....

I didn't post last Friday, I had a week before of seriously bad food choices, stress, complications and emotional eating. I could have blamed it on 'hitting a plateau', but, that's not honest. I went overboard on sugar and fat and carbohydrates and just didn't want to bother forcing myself to get my trainers on and go for a walk, and well, it showed. Nothing budged. So, nothing gained but the weight stayed the same, last week.

THIS week, however, I saw improvement, real and right there on the scales.

THIS week I buckled down and started walking with a friend every evening for an hour. She is a little fireball, being Brazilian, and will walk for hours at a rapid rate if allowed. I have to make sure I am well warmed up and have taken Paracetamol before we meet up or I'm limping halfway through. Still, it's great exercise, I've lost another kilogram and my clothes are now seriously loose on me. Its fun, taking things out of boxes which I have not been able to wear since 2004-2005 and finding they not only fit well, but are in some cases actually no longer tight. Hurrah!

In a few more kilos, I will be down to the lightest weight I have ever been here in France. I forget exactly how light I became, I'll have to go dig it out from my old Blog.

The very biggest differences this time around are I have a handle on my depression, I no longer feel vulnerable and completely alone. I refuse to allow myself to be taken advantage of again. I know I face challenges, but, I have skills and methods to handle them now. My health is improving, I am well-ensconced in the way of life here in France and my daughters are having a joyous childhood. And, I like myself. I'm proud of what I've achieved. For once I can say 'I am happy in my skin!' These are things mere money cannot purchase.

Plus... this time around... I have hope. I live in hope.

Everything happens, and everything doesn't always have a reason for WHY it has happened, but, happen it will. Once I accepted that, life seemed a bit less mean. Life seems now to be just that: a life. I can do with it as I choose, it is all my doing, no one else's. I am making this journey alone, regardless of who is around me. I will enjoy this life to the fullest extent. I hope all of you will as well.

It's your choice.

In Hope. x

Have a great week, Kitty x

Good News at the end of week Eight on Dukan.

2011-04-16T19:28:00.000+02:00

I've been ridiculously busy this past week with a plethora of different bits and pieces in my life, ends that needed tying up and off, little tasks that just had to get done. The Lion's Share has been accomplished, all the while sticking to my resolutions I made to myself earlier in the year. So, I feel slightly successful. Not Hilary climbing Everest successful, but more like 'keeping nutritious meals on the table while the house stays clean & tidy and the girls don't argue' successful. Far better than some silly mountain anytime.

I had the results of my blood tests come back and I discussed them with my doctor. Based partially on the diet I am following, partially on the (now) daily exercise I do, partially upon the weight loss and probably partially upon just dumb luck; my diabetes appears to be in complete remission. So I have been taken completely off the diabetes drug Metformin I was taking. This is exciting and thrilling for me because, as long as I stick to what I'm doing, I'll be one of many who have managed to conquer Type 2 diabetes. I'll have more tests done in the summer to make sure I'm still on track, but, heh, I have to tell you - I feel like a different person. Diabetes can really cause such an impact upon so many areas of your life: moods, rationality, vision, nerves, increased chance of strokes, heart and kidney disease; the list goes on and on. So often, people show no symptoms at all until damage has been done. I'm so lucky mine was caught early and treated.

The next couple paragraphs of this might not interest you unless you yourself are diabetic or if you have a family member or close friend who suffers from this affliction.

The blood test I had in the Autumn showed my HbA1c Glycated hemoglobin was within the normal range of 4.0% - 6.0%. Mine was 5.4% so I went from two Metformin a day down to one a day. January's test was 5.3%, so the Metformin was cut in half again, one pill every other day. Now this latest test has a result of 5.2%, still very much normal so that is why the diabetes medication has been dropped completely.

My blood pressure is good at 130/70 and my triglyceride levels have fallen from 1.41 g/l to 1.02 g/l. I still need to bring down my HDL cholesterol, so I've decided to try achieving this by cutting down on the beef I eat. Steak haché is so quick, easy and delicious, but, I've been buying the budget brand and the saturated fat level is around 15%. I need to cut back until I can afford to buy the 5% fat beef. I think if I can do this it should impact the HDL. I'm not getting saturated fat from any other source in my diet.

So, I'd say after two months on the Dukan Regime, my health has improved, my energy levels are really good, I don't feel hungry or 'snacky' during the day and the weight keeps coming off! My youngest daughter remarked yesterday, as I came down the stairs, "Mummy! Oh! That's you? I saw your legs and 'taille' coming down and I thought you were Mwanda!" Mwanda is her nickname for her 13 year-old sister. No, I have not slimmed down to pre-pubescent, but I don't need to wear baggy sweatpants and men's t-shirts any longer and I guess both girls are quite astonished at my weight loss progress. Their encouragement keeps me going. I want my family to be proud of me.

In the last two months on the Dukan Regime, I've lost 13kg/ 2 stones/ 28 pounds.

Apparently it takes six weeks of doing something on a daily basis to make it into a habit. I'd say I've now got the walking down to a 'habit' and certainly the method of eating comes without a second thought. Yes, I DO cheat, now and again, but I always account for it in my daily food diary and either plan for the 'cheat' by eating less before or eating less afterwards. Or by doing a lot of physical activity to make up for it.

I have finally sorted out CPAM, my medical coverage, so, this is why I was able to do the flurry of tests. The kinésithérapeute finally was able to help with my left Achilles tendon so that is much better. Yes, I do have to take pain medication but at least I can walk with barely a limp, huge progress.

I guess I am simply just thankful for so much right now. My children are all happy and doing well at work and at school. I feel calm, centred and happy to be living where I am. I do have moments of joy in my life. I have loved and been loved in my life with a fierce intensity. We are safe where we live and no longer feel a constant threat from unwanted persons impinging upon our life. I feel such gratitude towards the person and the situations that have brought us to where we are right now. Thank you so very much. Please accept my thanks on behalf of us all.

I send out joy, hope, love and light to all. Have a wonderful week.

Dukan week Seven or Pardon My Apparent Lack of Creativity.

2011-04-08T13:33:00.001+02:00

I mean what surer sign of Spring than a Frappuccino?

No, just to reassure you, my town has not yet arrived in the 21st century by acquiring a $tarbucks, no. Do not fret. A petit noir is still 1.10€ - 1.20€, cafés still insist on boiling the milk past scalding temperature if you ask for a crème. Life is still normal here.

My week on my regime has been fraught with ups and down, lots of downs, rather like my life right now. I stressed out mid-week and cracked open the Christmas Cake tin. This is the fruitcake I have which is still maturing from year BEFORE last, 2009. I unwrapped the buttercloth covering, still redolent of the heavy Bacardi soaking the cake had received, then gorged on a HUGE slice of the moist, fragrant love-stuff. (In case you are wondering, it was awesomely good, whoa.) Then I had a slab of marzipan, just to top off the carb fest. I do a nut topping on our family's Christmas cake, the girls aren't too fond of either Royal icing nor Fondant, let alone marzipan.

I've spent a lot of time feeling really down in the dumps of late. I feel tossed about by the whims of circumstance like flotsam jettisoned into the Universe's emotional ether. Well, something like that but said better.

So, not much progress because of cheating, a 'hormonal plateau' plus feeling too depressed to get out and walk 30 minutes twice a day. On a positive note: I haven't yet completely lost my sense of humour, I do attempt to look at my situation and find things to be amused about. I also know I am far better off than millions of other people. I try to count my blessings each day and be grateful for not yet having shuffle'd off this mortal coil. Slings and arrows, I've got 'em. Outrageous fortune: missing.

So for the 'Money Shot' (a term which I did not know until last year when it was explained to me.)

I'm taking that at 87kg. Still reducing, just not in any kind of rapid sense. Still, the end result is what counts. My clothes fit better, the smaller stuff.

My doctor says I've reduced a bit over 12kg since the last time he weighed me in his office. He has halved my heart medication. I have a blood test tomorrow to check on my cholesterol, iron and blood sugar, I should have the results sometime next week. That will let me know how this regime is impacting my health. I'm sure it's favourably since my blood pressure was down to 130/70.

I'd really like to post something other than my weight updates. This must be mindbendingly boring for anyone who reads this. Sorry. I'll try to become inspired. It's just hard right now to express myself due to general ennui.

Sending you all best wishes for a lovely weekend and week.

Spring Flowers and end of Dukan week Six

2011-04-01T19:24:00.000+02:00

These are the lovely flowers planted in the town square, behind are the flower pyramid boxes in front of the Church.

They lift my spirits every time I walk by them, so, at least twice a day on my walks. I always stop and smell the flowers. :)

My woodland walk gave me this lovely leaf the other night. A sweet thing to find for some precious memories I keep from that same spot. I adore Springtime, walking down this path, listening to birdsong, watching the season change, the leaves appearing on the trees. Each day I watch the blush of chartreuse green flush the trees away from the drab brown and grey of winter. It brings me great peace, this place.

This is me, VERY early in the morning; My, don't I look chipper!? (Just keeping it real, folks!)
Why am I smiling? The scales look pretty OK this week, that's why!

I'm down to 97.5kg. Only a shift of 500g down from last week, but, that's a pound, so, I'll take it!
And, I've got the beginnings of my hourglass figure back. Only the beginnings, mind you, but, still. Small steps.

Next week I'm not expecting a lot because, well, I'm out of cash to buy food for myself, I only have enough for the girls and Restos du Coeur finished last week, so, my diet will most likely suffer, a bit. But never mind, I know what I need to do to get back on track afterwards. The girls will always eat well and nutritiously, that's my main concern.

CAF decided to cut my cash by 7/8ths. No idea why and no letter explaining the change but I just checked on the site and I've got less than 100€ coming on Tuesday. Heavens above, I just have to laugh, no use getting stressed as that doesn't help a thing. Assistance Sociale on Monday morning, obviously.

Life in France.... It's always something, isn't it?

Choices

2011-03-27T14:38:00.001+02:00

Choices

If I can’t do
what I want to do
then my job is to not
do what I don’t want
to do.
It’s not the same thing
but it’s the best I can
do.

If I can’t have
what I want then
my job is to want
what I’ve got
and be satisfied
that at least there
is something more
to want.

Since I can’t go
where I need to go
then I must go
where the signs point
though always understanding
parallel movement
isn’t lateral.

When I can’t express
what I really feel
I practice feeling
what I can express
and none of it is equal
I know
but that’s why mankind
alone among the animals
learns to cry.

Nikki Giovanni

Spring, Livestrong and Dukan week five

2011-03-25T22:10:00.001+01:00

Spring has arrived here in Côtes d'Armor in full force. Every weekend you can hear the mosquito sound hanging overhead as dozens of men get out the lawnmowers and attack the lawns fed by the extraordinary amount of water we've had over the winter. Daffodils, hyacinths and crocus are everywhere and I got a lovely surprise discovering some grape muscats growing just outside my kitchen door. Lovely.

I had no idea they were even there!

The cats snooze in the sun...

And nap happily most all the day... so they can chase marbles around on the wood floors all night.

But their cuteness makes up for the odd awakening at 4 am.

Butterflies have appeared, flitting about, always a colourful but brief surprise so early in the year.

At first I ignored these berries, then my elder daughter pointed them out, "Look, Mum! Ladybirds!" And yes, yes they are, hundreds of them in the cypress bushes outside our local Maire. Not berries as I had originally thought.

The increased light, the sunshine and warmth, the new life bursting all around has lifted my spirits considerably. So even though I still have much to face ahead of me, I stay calm and focussed because I have peace and love in my home. That's what counts to me, most of all. The rest is just details, where the Devil resides.

I have been using this site, Livestrong, to track everything that goes into my mouth, the water I drink plus the exercise I manage to accomplish every day. I started using it way back on 12 September 2008, when I first began trying to get my weight back on track. If I count from then to today, I have lost a whopping 30kg/ 4 stone 10 pounds /66 lbs. But, in reality and for the purposes of this regime, I'm just counting what I'm losing on Dukan, and I saw a small improvement again this morning.

Slow and steady does the trick for me. The progress would be more significant if I could only manage to get out and walk more often, but, it's just too painful unless I load up on analgesics. My Kinésithérapist has offered to let me go in during office hours and use the stationary bike in her office. I did that one day this week. Now I just have to 'man up' and go in more often!

May I suggest you check out Livestrong if you too are in the process of becoming more healthy. It's a great resource and my regular commenters are welcome to friend me, I am LaCheshireChat there as well. My food diary is only open to people whom I have befriended, but on my public profile, you can look at the recipes I have posted.

I wish you a lovely weekend and a great week!

'Legal' Cioppino and Dukan Week Four

2011-03-18T17:41:00.000+01:00

One of the enjoyable things about starting any kind of eating routine, be it moving to a different country, health necessitated or being on a structured regime, such as this; is the challenge of adapting my 'Old Recipes' to my current way of eating. Well, I find it fun. Yes, I should probably get out more, but anyway...

The following is my adaptation of one of my favourite dishes, Cioppino, which can be loosely described as a San Francisco-style Bouillabaisse. I always use an adaptation of an old Gourmet magazine recipe, but that uses much too much olive oil, so, I used an adaptation of one I found on The Food Network by chef Giada De Laurentiis. Also, just so you know, the above picture isn't mine, but one that most closely resembles what my Cioppino looks like. By the time I realised, last night, I should take a photo... it was mostly polished off. You don't want to look at dirty dishes or the remaining Tablespoon of my Cioppino!.

In this recipe adaptation, I mainly just removed the oil, using instead vegetable stock for 'sautéeing' the vegetables and I replaced the clams, mussels and shellfish with frozen seafood cocktail mix. I did this because: it's what I had and because I need to cook something that won't break the bank. When I'm trying to impress, I go all out with a variety of fresh fish and fresh shellfish. However, please do feel free to add in fresh shellfish, mussels and clams, especially if you'd like the 'Wow' factor of the shells. Me? I didn't want to fiddle with shells and peeling prawns heads and carapaces from their delectable bodies, and frankly, I never do want that messy fuss, even in a restaurant; I just want to eat!

Cioppino
Recipe courtesy Giada De Laurentiis and adapted for The Dukan Diet Cruise Phase Veg+Protein day by Kitty

Prep Time: 30 min - Cook Time: 1 hr 0 min
Serves: 6 servings

Ingredients
* 250 ml / 8 ounces / 1 cup reduced fat vegetable stock
* 1 large fennel bulb, thinly sliced
* 1 onion, chopped
* 3 large shallots, chopped
* 2 teaspoons sea salt
* 4-8 large garlic cloves, finely chopped (You decide on amount, we happen to love garlic!)
* 3/4 teaspoon dried crushed red pepper flakes, plus more to taste
* 4 Tablespoons / 2 ounces / 1/4 cup tomato paste
* 850 g / 28-ounce can diced tomatoes in juice
* 350 ml / 12 ounces dry white wine (optional)
* 1 1/4 litre / 40 ounces / 5 cups fish stock (I use Fumet de Poisson + hot water)
* 1 bay leaf
* 500 g / 1 pound bag frozen seafood cocktail mix (avoid the ones with Surimi, mine had prawns/shrimp, mussels and squid)
* 250g / 1/2 pound fresh or frozen prawns/shrimp or another bag of seafood cocktail mix
* 1 kg / 2 pounds assorted firm-fleshed fish fillets such as halibut or salmon, (I used salmon and Panga) cut into small bite-sized pieces
* A handful of finely chopped or shredded fresh basil (optional)

Directions
Heat half the stock in a very large pot over medium heat. Add the fennel, onion, shallots, garlic and salt and sauté until the onion is translucent, continuing stirring and adding more stock as needed to keep the vegetables from sticking. Add 3/4 teaspoon of red pepper flakes, and stir in the tomato paste. Add tomatoes with their juices, wine (if using,) fish stock and bay leaf. Bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium-low. Cover and simmer until the flavours blend, about 30 minutes. The fennel and garlic should be tender.

Add the frozen seafood cocktail mix (and prawns/shrimp, if using frozen) to the cooking liquid. Cover and cook, until the liquid begins to simmer. Then add the fish (and prawns/shrimp if fresh) to the pot, simmering gently until the fish and shrimp are just cooked through, while stirring gently, about 5-7 minutes more. Any longer and the squid will go tough. Season the soup, to taste, with more salt and red pepper flakes.

Ladle the soup into bowls, sprinkle each bowl with some basil, if using, and serve. This goes wonderfully with crusty baguette!
(Note: To make this go further, add 500g / 1 pound of well-scrubbed small new potatoes when you add the bay leaf. Obviously this then changes the recipe away from the cruise phase!)

~~~~

Now I'll discuss my week. It was pretty crap, again. I have been 'cheating' and it showed up on the scales. What have I been cheating with? Glasses of Merlot? Tablets of Chocolat Noir 70%? Or did I flip out and eat an entire Chaussée aux Moines? Nope, I've been having 50g of All-Bran Fibre Plus every morning with Non-Fat milk. Big whoopty-cheat. I stepped on the scales this morning and decided to can that breakfast cereal malarky right away. It's not been as 'efficacious' as hoped and it has completely put this week's results in the crapper. (Or not, if truth be told, *ahem*)

If anything, I probably gained 500g / 1 pound or so.
Ah well, just means I need to put out a bit more effort this week coming up.

I found this site on the internet called Bodyrock.tv that is focussed on the Home Exercise movement. There are lots of short, intense videos that work all areas of your body, perfect for someone who wants to do a bit of exercise now and again through the day, and is stuck at home. I have to find something to do besides walking, I'm now barely managing 20 minutes at a time, and even if I go out twice a day, it's just not enough.

Obviously my former exercise routine of throwing my weight around, jumping to conclusions and pushing my luck is no longer applicable nor effective.

Have a great weekend and a fabulous week!

A Saint Patrick's Irish Coffee

2011-03-17T14:07:00.000+01:00

For those of you that celebrate the day, I wish you roads rising to meet you and the wind at your back and all that fun stuff. For those that do not, maybe you can be tempted to try this lovely recipe, which I learned when noght but a wee bairn at my Grandpappy's knee.

No I didn't, I learned it from a bartender in San Francisco, at the Buena Vista Café, the most famous place for Irish Coffees in America. At least it is if you believe their press.

The Buena Vista makes theirs according to the official recipe from Joe Sheridan, a bartender at Shannon Airport, who invented the drink: "Cream as rich as an Irish brogue, coffee as strong as a friendly hand, sugar as sweet as the tongue of a rogue, and whiskey as smooth as the wit of the land.''

The Irish claim they invented whiskey -- the ancient Gaels called it "uisce beathe,'' the water of life. The Scots have a few choice words for the Irish over that matter.

Whiskey has always been something to fight over. Even now, it is not a good idea to serve Bushmill's, which is made in Northern Ireland, to an Irish person from the south, nor to serve Jameson's, made in the Republic of Ireland, to somebody from Ulster.

But, I'll leave my audience to decide which Irish Whiskey to choose when making this drink, what's important is that you make it. And have one for me, please.

In a heat resistant glass, place one or two teaspoons of raw cane sugar. This is important because without the sugar, the cream will not float. You can also use liquid cane sugar, sirop de canne, it's faster. I know the Buena Vista uses C&H cane sugar, but I prefer raw cane sugar. No, you can't use artificial sweeteners. Just suck it up and use the real stuff, please.

Pour over the sugar hot strong brewed coffee to about 3/4 full. Not instant, ever. Stir to dissolve the sugar or skip that if you used liquid.

Add a shot or two of your choice of Irish Whiskey. Yes, it needs to be Irish Whiskey, not Scotch Whisky. There's a huge difference.

Then, using an inverted spoon held just above the surface of the coffee, gently and slowly pour unsweetened double cream so that it floats on top of the coffee. If you don't have double cream, you can try single cream, but it will probably 'mix in'. Still tastes good but the presentation isn't as nice. You can also try softly whipping the cream, just a bit, so that it floats easier. Also, cream that's a couple days old works better. No, don't use canned whippy cream, that's disgusting and an affront to the Irish Coffee gods.

You drink the Irish Coffee by sipping it through the thick layer of cream. Luscious.

Now, go find a special someone or other and make one of these for them. Even if they don't have Irish eyes, they'll still be smiling, and at you.

Mmmmm... Perfect.

My Dukan Regime: Week Three

2011-03-11T18:28:00.000+01:00

I kinda felt I did pretty crap this week. Basically because I over-salted everything, which means I'm retaining even more water than usual plus I didn't drink enough water (and tea) to flush the excess salt out of my system.

Plus I had to deal with a whole load of crap-o-la this last week. Major stress. I probably came closest to cheating than at any other point. So, I 'cheated' with too much salt, I suppose, but kept strictly to the regime.

On the other hand, I'm now completely over single cream in my coffee. I always drank black coffee in the States, when I worked at a place that did freshly roasted, freshly ground Green Mountain coffee. Any milk would have hid the subtle nuances of the different coffees and blends, so, it was always black. Then I moved to the UK and was only ever offered a pale cup of instant (bleeeck, instant!) So I began drinking coffee with single cream to ~~hide~~ improve the taste. That was then, this is now. I'm only allowed non-fat milk in my coffee which is frankly gross. I tried it several times and just decided to can the dairy completely. Now I drink fresh black coffee made in my cafétiere every morning. I'm over milk and cream. So very over it.

So, with the water retention and the salt, I was really dreading stepping on the scales this morning, however, I was pleasantly surprised with a bit of progress.

I'm down to 90kg / 14 stone 2 pounds / 198 lbs. Yeah! I'm under 200 pounds!
So, to date I've lost 8 kg / 1 stone 3.6 pounds / 17.6 lbs

I celebrated at lunch with a huge salad served with the Dukan Balsamic vinaigrette I make. Delicious!

Everyone I know has noticed a difference. Which is very encouraging to me. Plus I just feel, I don't know, lighter? Smaller? I still have the pain in my Achilles tendon, but hopefully that will be seen to soon. My doctor wants me to receive 'shock' treatments to the tendon using sound waves. I have to travel to Saint Brieuc to do this and if CPAM get their act together, it could happen in a matter of weeks.

My doctor is very happy with my progress. And so am I.

I will be getting another blood test done at the end of the month and we'll see how my blood sugar and my cholesterol are faring with the weight drop.

Tonight is my homemade ratatouille and chicken. Yummmm....

Have a great weekend and a great week!

Two weeks on Dukan

2011-03-05T17:18:00.001+01:00

It's been two weeks, now, since I started my regime. I'm pleased with how it is going; my daughters say they can tell I've lost weight, one of my girlfriends said my neck and face look thinner, plus my clothes feel considerably looser. I have a leather belt which I purchased in 2004 when I was close to my thinnest, I had to get more holes put in it as I lost weight back then, and today it's on the tightest setting, but feels perfectly comfortable.

Here is the picture of my scale from yesterday morning, it would have been posted earlier, but I had misplaced the USB cord to transfer the photos over from my phone.

So, as of Friday 4 March, I have lost 6 kg / 13.2 pounds. Getting down below 95 was a big landmark for me since I've not been able to get below that since 2005.

Having vegetables again was such a treat for me after 10 days without. I went crazy with the taste of haricots verts! And now I know it's never more than 24 hours before I can have my salads and steamed veggies again.

I'm honestly having such problems getting the walks in, just because I dread the effect it will have on my Achilles tendon. I limp just about constantly now, unless I drug myself up on painkillers. I've done the painkillers before in order to cope with moving (and working) when I snapped my other Achilles tendon back in 2009. At the moment, there's not much else I can do; RSI, my Caisse Primaire (or Health Insurance) cancelled me without explanation. I cannot go further with my kiné or Physical therapy nor can I go see the specialist my doctor wants me to see because RSI didn't send me 'radiation' paperwork so I can sign up with CPAM, the Government Health Insurance scheme. Two weeks I have tried to sort this out with RSI and CPAM, they promise to call and never do. So, I suppose it means I need to take a trip to St. Brieuc soon and talk directly to BOTH horses' mouths.

In the meantime I'll try to stop from attacking a glass of orange juice...

Let's see how I do in the next week ahead, I have some majorly huge and worrying things occurring, I hope I can stay on course, I'm doing so well so far, maybe I just need to write more, that keeps my mind off things.

"The tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon, but that we wait so long to begin it." ~ C.S. Lewis

I love that quote.

Once A Pun A Time

2011-02-26T17:27:00.000+01:00

1. The fattest knight at King Arthur's round table was Sir Cumference. He acquired his size from too much pi.

2. I thought I saw an eye doctor on an Alaskan island, but it turned out to be an optical Aleutian .

3. She was only a whiskey maker, but he loved her still.

4. A rubber band pistol was confiscated from algebra class, because it was a weapon of maths disruption.

5. No matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery.

6. A dog gave birth to puppies near the road and was cited for littering.

7. A grenade thrown into a kitchen in France would result in Linoleum Blown apart.

8. Two silk worms had a race. They ended up in a tie.

9. A hole has been found in the nudist camp wall. The police are looking into it.

10. Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.

11. Atheism is a non-prophet organization.

12. Two hats were hanging on a hat rack in the hallway. One hat said to the other: 'You stay here; I'll go on a head.'

13. I wondered why the baseball kept getting bigger. Then it hit me.

14. A sign on the lawn at a drug rehab centre said: 'Keep off the Grass.'

15. The midget fortune-teller who escaped from prison was a small medium at large.

16. The soldier who survived mustard gas and pepper spray is now a seasoned veteran.

17. A backward poet writes inverse.

18. In a democracy it's your vote that counts. In feudalism it's your count that votes.

20. If you jumped off the bridge in Paris , you'd be in Seine .

21. A vulture boards an aeroplane, carrying two dead raccoons. The stewardess looks at him and says, 'I'm sorry, sir, only one carrion allowed per passenger.'

23. Two Eskimos sitting in a kayak were chilly, so they lit a fire in the craft. Unsurprisingly it sank, proving once again that you can't have your kayak and heat it too.

24. Two hydrogen atoms meet. One says, 'I've lost my electron.' The other says 'Are you sure?' The first replies, 'Yes, I'm positive.'

26. There was the person who sent ten puns to friends, with the hope that at least one of the puns would make them laugh. No pun in ten did.

The end of week One.

2011-02-25T14:49:00.000+01:00

It's Friday. I have now been on my regime for a week. As I wrote in my post on Accountability, I am posting a picture of my scales to show how I have done for the week. Regardless of how badly it went, the picture will get posted. It's one way of keeping myself motivated to do well, exercise every day and not cheat, because I know that come Friday, I have to come clean and post my results.

This past week has been the part of the regime called 'The Attack Phase'. It is a pure protein phase, meaning, only proteins can be consumed. There is a list of 72 of these pure proteins which include: lean beef and veal, reduced fat ham and bacon, offal such as liver or kidney, lean poultry, any kind of fish, all shellfish, eggs, non-fat dairy products and tofu.
You also must consume 1 1/2 Tablespoons of oat bran per day, drink a minimum of 1.5 litres of water and exercise by walking a minimum of 20 minutes each day. Salt use must be kept to an absolute minimum. I use exclusively in my cooking the naturally moist and grey Sel de Mer de Guérande, anyway, which has a stronger taste so I use much less. Just a few grains is plenty to season a dish.

I think what has been hardest has been trying to get the water requirement satisfied. I have found that I can't stand coffee without single cream, non-fat milk doesn't cut it, so, I have given that up for plain tea with no milk or sweeteners. That's helping, as I can easily drink 10 cups of tea per day. And the tea counts towards the 1.5 litre requirement.

You are allowed to use onion and garlic, tomato paste, herbs, spices, pepper, pickles, lemon, mustard and soy sauce as seasoning, so the meals haven't been boring. The oat bran is used to make a kind of galette which I eat with ham and eggs in the morning.

I'm pleased to say it's going really well for me. Therefore, without further ado, my weekly results:

I have lost 3.25 kg / 0.5 stones / 7 pounds

I'm very happy with this as it's slow enough to be healthy and significant enough so that I don't lose heart. I'll stay on this 'Attack Phase' through Monday, then switch over to the next phase of the Dukan diet, 'Cruise Phase' where you alternate days of protein and vegetables with days of pure protein. I can tell you, I'm ready to have my veggies back! There are 28 vegetables that are allowed; potatoes, sweetcorn and other starchy vegetables don't make the list. So, all total there are 100 foods one can consume without restriction, as long as you keep to the rules: no cheating with anything not on the list, 1.5 litres of water/fluids per day, minimum 20 minute walk every day and the 1 1/2 Tablespoon of oat bran per day. I expect that my weight loss will slow when I begin eating the vegetables every other day because they are not as much a diuretic as pure protein alone. And my metabolism is like a hydrophilic sponge, if there's water around, I'll retain it!

So, I'll give myself a pat on the back for the week's results and smile!
Go Team Kitty!

Accountability

2011-02-24T11:43:00.004+01:00

Webster's Unabridged Dictionary: Ac·count·a·bil·i·ty; n. The state of being accountable; liability to be called  on to render an account; the obligation to bear the consequences for  failure to perform as expected; accountableness. 

«The awful idea of accountability.»  R. Hall.

Syn. -- answerability, answerableness

I have a problem with accountability, quite often, because I want people to like me and I hate to admit failure. I'm also pig-headed enough and so stubborn as to not even see when I've done something completely contrary and wrong. Let me tell you right now, because it has happened to me often enough to know: nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong. However, I often fool myself into believing that the mistake is either normal for me or that it's the other person's fault. Until I'm far enough removed from the situation to be able to reflect and see I was indeed wrong. But by then it's often too late to make amends.

People fail all the time; we fall down constantly. It's the picking yourself up and moving forward that defines life.

So that is what I am attempting here, to become more accountable. Mostly to myself but I figured if I put it out to a wider audience, I'd have more impetus and incentive to be truthful and to succeed with my goal. Because I hate being embarrassed almost as much as I hate to fail.

What the heck am I going on about?

I've decided to lose weight. Rather a lot of weight. Something in the region of 35kg / 5 stones 7.5 pounds / 77 pounds. If I can achieve this, I will be the lightest I've been since I was in my 20's. It also means that my knee pain should go away, my heart health will improve, my cholesterol will be in normal range and I will no longer suffer from Type II diabetes. I've been slowly losing weight over the last two years and as a result, I've been able to significantly reduce my use of Metformin. The Doctor's thinking is that if I can get into a healthy BMI range through diet and exercise, the diabetes will indeed vanish completely. This is huge for me because when my blood sugar is out of whack, so am I.

However, I have hit a point where my weight has stayed constant and stable through normal eating and refuses to budge downwards, even with increased exercise. A plateau, you might say. I know that decreasing the amount of food I consume (ie: low-calorie diets) will only force my body into it's normal starvation red alert, therefore, I need to change what I consume.

So, last Friday, 18 February, I began The Dukan Diet. I bought the book off Amazon.fr and happily it is English-language. I am following this four-part regime until I lose all the weight I need, then will continue with the Stabilisation phase for the rest of my life. I chose this particular diet after researching dozens of different diets over the last three months. For me, it makes the most sense. It is highly restrictive in the initial two phases, but I feel I need that aspect in my life right now.

So where does accountability come in? Right here:

Those are my scales and that is my weight on Friday morning, 18 February 2011. I weighed myself completely nude, I might add, so no taking off poundage for clothing allowed. (Sorry for the lousy picture, but the sole camera I now own is attached to my Sony Ericsson Mobile phone. Unless you count my SLR Canon FT, but that uses actual film!)

Yes, it's rather shocking how much I weigh, I agree.

I will be posting a photo of my scales each week until I meet my goal, or decide I've come as close as I can get and still be in good health. I have no wish to become a stick insect. I can't really see myself with a future career as a fashion model, let alone a fashionista. I am a woman, I indeed have curves, but I want gentle curves, not a drive up Mulholland or Lombard Street.

Yes, part of it has to do with health, but a whole huge part of it also has to do with vanity. I love myself for who I am. I am proud of my accomplishments, most all of which were achieved in the face of enormous and overwhelming odds. My three children adore me. My close friends appreciate me for my warmth, humour and 'me-ness'. Everyone who has dined with me enjoys my food. I've been told I'm not ugly. My breath doesn't stink and I shower daily. As far as I know, I have no disgusting habits. (If I'm wrong, please DO let me know so I can work on that, ok?)

So... if I'm generally 'acceptable'... why am I single, alone and without an *appropriate* mate? (By *appropriate* I mean a partner who isn't just a fifty-something child and requires mothering or someone who wants a fashion accessory to show off, bully and control. In other words, *appropriate* means a REAL honest-to-God man.) And why haven't I had a proper 'date' in years? I think it's to do with how men perceive me. I'm fat, frumpy and fifty-something. (Oh, yeah, I had another birthday on 1 February, so, indeed I'm now fifty-three. Truth and accountability and openness and all that.) I take pains to point out that it's not like I even want to date right now or even would or could; I am still in love with someone and I still have hopes and dreams and yearning that one day... I know I'm fooling myself, I know it won't happen, just, we never gave it a chance, not really, not a proper honest chance. That's the biggest regret in my life.

And... it's just that... when I look into a man's eyes, it would be nice to see appreciation of the fact I am an attractive and desirable woman, instead of seeing something resembling disgust. Or pity.

(Truthfully? Not every man looks at me this way. But a huge majority do. And it's upsetting. Plus it's a huge blow to my already fragile ego.)

Will this attitude I find in most men change if I lose an enormous amount of weight? Will I suddenly turn into a Hubba-hubba combo of Angelina Jolie, Monica Bellucci and a Victoria's Secret Lingerie model? Most probably not. I'm not so facile to believe it will. But at least at that point in time I can hold my head high, know I've done all I can and realise that it's not me at fault here, I am actually 'worthy of admiration' on many levels and all this time I've simply been looking in the wrong eyes, yes, all along, my entire life.

So, stay tuned for weekly updates on my progress. Because there WILL be progress, of that I am certain.

A Love Letter Unread.

2011-02-14T19:05:00.001+01:00

"Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs.

Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes.

Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears.

What is it else? A madness most discreet,

A choking gall and a preserving sweet."

~ William Shakespeare ~

Valentine's Day is great when you are in a stable, loving relationship. Well, even just some kind of relationship where the partner is clued in enough to be aware they are supposed to DO something on that date. Or if you happen to be pretty, popular or at least cool or worthy enough to receive cards, gifts, chocolates... flowers. Receive them on the day just for breathing and being alive. Because, heh, you're cool... and popular people get things. Hollywood will verify this.

"Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies." ~ Aristotle ~

Well, I hate Valentine's Day. Because I have never BEEN cool, popular or attractive, especially while in Grade School. I was shy, meek and very mousey, terrified of others my own age, bullied constantly, my only real friends being books and the teachers who allowed me to stay in during recess, with the pretence of allowing me to help file or do bulletin boards. Children can be so very cruel and being newly arrived from the Deep South, my Californian peers rolled with laughter whenever I opened my mouth to speak. So, I tended not to try speaking out loud but communicated through comic strips and art projects instead of oral reports. My teachers at the time understood and allowed this. For that I'll be forever grateful.

Valentine's Day cards HAD to be given to each child, it was a rule. So at the end of the day your little 'Mail Box' that sat on your desk contained one small valentine in a small white envelope from each child in the class. You could be assured of this. It was 'safe'. Because I'd been forced to give the horrid Deborah a Valentine I knew she had to give me one as well. Deborah was the nasty girl who always tripped me in the girl's room then gave my forearm an Indian burn as I was sprawled across the tiles. I never was able to suss out why she hated me so very much. But she always got the ugly elephant Valentine from me. Always.

High school Valentines were given between my girlfriends and myself, I can't ever remember receiving an actual Valentine from an actual boy. A boy who was two years older than I, sent me a soppy love letter once. I remember it made me feel rather embarrassed since it spoke of things and feelings and wants and needs that I hadn't yet a clue about. I did not share his feelings. He lost interest the next week.

I went on a first date on Valentine's Day, quite by accident, with the man who became my first husband. I had finished work and went to a local restaurant to meet my housemate for a drink. She showed up and then he did as well a bit later. How awkward. He just sat there blathering away and wouldn't leave. I went to the loo and came back to find she had bailed on me and gone home, so, there I was stuck with him. I was too polite, I should have just bailed myself. I remember him proposing the following year on the same day with the aside that this was probably the best offer I'd ever get, so, marrying him was really rather an honour for me.

I can laugh now, but at the time, my self-esteem was nil... and I accepted. We were married Valentine's Day 1987. And he left in 1993, taking our son with him. Well, physically he left in 1993, mentally he'd left me years before.

Husband Mach 2? Let's just say he even forgot my 40th birthday... and I was NINE months pregnant with our first child at the time... so, no, Valentine's Day was never what you'd call significant. Unless I reminded him. And what fun is that?

Now this isn't supposed to be a pity party, ok? It might seem like it's headed that way but it's not. I'm just underlining how rotten the date 14th February actually IS for me.

It rather sucks, up to now.

"It's not what you have in your life, but who you have in your life that counts."

The wonderful thing about being an adult human, is that you can decide that you'll do something different. I'm not bound to hibernation or migration and if I decide that I am going to change, well I can! I don't NEED to wait for evolution to wind it's way around. I can just think, "Right, this is how I will now do this." Then do it. Simple.

"The important thing, is to be able at any moment to sacrifice what we are... for what we could become." ~ French critic Charles Du Bos ~

So, I decided that's how I'll look at Valentine's day from now on.

Differently.

Today is a non-sectarian day to tell people whom you care about that you are happy they are in your life. I mean, you can do that at Christmas, but there's the whole religion thing that wraps around it which people can get stuffy or silly about. So today can be a day that is for everyone regardless of religious flavour. Or even non-flavour.

"Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination, full of hope." ~ Maya Angelou ~

I want to tell those who mean so much to me that I appreciate them. I want to say that you have made a difference in my life. That I am where I am today because of your love and support. And I know that I would not be in this safe and happy place had you not been there to help me through so much. Thank you, you mean the world to me.

"Love is strong yet delicate. It can be broken. To truly love is to understand this. To be in love is to respect this." ~ Stephen Packer ~

To the person I adore and cherish, who took me from a most horrid fate ahead of me and restored me to the whole person I had lost along the way, thank you. I will always and forever love you. I will always and forever be grateful for your love, care and attention. For everything you did for me and for us. I can never repay your kindness, but I hope, one future date, you will allow me to try. I hope you know that you will always and forever own my heart. The small sure flame will eternally and unremittingly burn; secret, guarded, certain. Please know that and remember. You will always and forever be The One.

Hug them, kiss them and tell them that you love them. Don't miss the chances that life is giving you to spend with people you love. There are no rewinds.

I know time and space and circumstances now separate us. I know that you have someone else now and that this outpouring of love I have for you will never be read, still, I needed to put it out there, to write it down and make it real, at least for me. If I could whisper in your ear, I would ask you to come back to me. I would ask you to give us another chance, but I know it's too late. That regret will ever lay heavy upon my heart.

A quiet thought, a silent tear, a constant wish that you were here. Words are few but thoughts are deep, memories of you, I'll always keep.

"A successful relationship requires falling in love many times, always with the same person. Always with the same person, but deeper and deeper every time. Each time on a whole new level you together open in love and discover the truth of your beloved anew. There is no limit to the beauty of your beloved. If you think you've reached the end, stop generalising."

Some morning, when I've met you in that sacred in-between place where we still laugh and smile at each other, that dreamworld of mine you inhabit, where there is sunshine glinting off the water, where there is peace and quiet, birdsong from the shore and long loving glances between us. I will look into those beautiful blue eyes again, face-to-face, the eyes I could swim in forever, happy, safe and secure. And you will smile, and my heart again will thrill. And that some morning, please, before you lean over to kiss her awake, the one you love now, think of me just the once. Think of me in the long pink dress, forever now hidden away from view and remember me with my hair falling down around. Remember the love we shared, the life we planned, our future together. Make peace with that and with me, please. Then, think of me just the once... and smile.

Because I will forever be thinking of you.

My House of Cards

2011-01-23T04:59:00.002+01:00

If it was just one thing to deal with, I could cope, as I cope every day of my life. As millions of people worldwide cope with their own day-to-day difficulties.

In fact, two things to deal with are fine, even three, several, many. I can difficulty multi-task.

But....
When it is dealing with this stupid constant pain in my knee, which I have had since my compound tib-fib fracture in March 1993... well, ok. I am used to that pain, it is rather like 'white noise' and background, I have a coping strategy for that and most of the time I even forget it's there.

But....
When it is also dealing with the left hand side Achilles tendon pain, that my kinétherapist has now declared an 'affliction longe durée' because it is not getting any better. She doesn't understand why there has been absolutely no improvement other than possibly it's caused by a physiological malfunction and in that case, it's most likely inoperable. Unless the tendon snaps. THEN it can be fixed. It is painful to walk and it is excruciating to have someone press on it.

But.....
When is also dealing with 'Tennis Elbow' that makes it nearly impossible to pick up a cup of tea.

But.....
When it is also dealing with running out of fioul because I could only afford 250 litres and I can't get more for another two weeks. I've applied for help through Assistance Sociale but that usually takes two months to come through. In the meantime, I have plugged in the oil-fired heaters and turned on the electric hot water heater for the shower. Tremendously costly, but, rather like the poor man's shoes: all I can do.

But.....
When it is also getting the third degree grilling at Restos du Coeur because I'm not receiving a Pension Alimentaire from my ex-husband and the 'biological' father of my daughters. "Surely he sends you something, Madame? They are, after all, his children, yes?" "They are, but no, he does not." "He must help somehow... does he pay for their clothing? School trips? Canteen tickets?" It's now when I wish I knew how to say in French, 'He pays for bugger all, frankly.' I make a mental note to ask my eldest later. Look, folks, I have no job, no income, no money, no spousal support, no child support, nada. It's just me and RSA until I can 'create' some job out of thin air, a tuppence, a satsuma and a great idea. Until then, may I please be allowed some food for the children and myself? Pretty please? Thank you.

But....
When it is also my 12-year old being stopped by one of the advisers from her Martinique trip on the way back from our shopping trip at LeClerc. Then after a few pleasantries, and the woman saying, "Don't forget to stay in touch, dear." And my Spidey senses start tingling. And my daughter turns to me, quite matter-of-frankly as we continue on down the street, and whispers, "I think not, she's a lesbian, you see."

But....
When it is also having all but two electrical sockets now defunct so we have extension cords trailing all over the place. I have run through four packs of 10 amp fuses that go into the wall, I can't afford to buy any more. The electrician came to look, but, it needs a complete re-wire and that can't happen for a few weeks or months. Nothing happens here in France overnight, save strikes.

But....
When it is also coming out of your house and running smack dab into someone you did not want to run into...

Well, that was the final straw. Too many things came at me all at once. Actually more than I've gone into here, but some things are too difficult, raw, painful and personal to name, let alone discuss. Besides, even *I* am getting bored with this rant.

Heaven knows how you've sat through it.

My Doctor said there is no reason to suffer unnecessarily, I am not Christ on the cross atoning for the World's Sins. I agree. (Besides, I've never been a great Calvinist supporter.) I need to be here and present, I need to function for my children and for myself. I cannot spend hours of the day crying.

So, I am starting on anti-depressants again. These are different than the ones I was on before but are still an SSRI. Yes, they are a crutch. But I need a crutch, I'm broken. I need help to heal, to come to terms with my life situation, to find a way forward. My Doctor and I agreed to try this for a few months, see if I can't get over this difficult patch. So, Seroplex, 10mg, every night. Sadly, it has the same side effects as my last medication, notably 'Anorgasmia' and decreased libido. At least 'possible huge weight gain' isn't noted as common. I'll still keep a close eye on my weight, as that was the most depressing thing about taking anti-depressants last time: gaining something like 50 kg.

Because of my previous long-term use of Paroxetine, I have Post-SSRI sexual dysfunction which may never go away unless treated. At least I can hang a name on it now, and not just think it is all my fault because I was wired wrong. Or was caused by a lack of desire, it wasn't.

But anyway, the side effects aren't anything to concern me right now. I'm not looking forward to the 'Brain Zaps' that will come with discontinuing use. But then, at least I am aware of what's to come, I already know what to expect and I can plan for that future event.

I think I'll try making my emotional house out of something more substantial than cards or straw. I'm thinking fruitcake might have merit as a building material. At least, the American version. It's not like anyone ever eats it, is it?

Lamb Moussaka memories

2011-01-13T20:05:00.000+01:00

I first tasted Moussaka in Greece when I was there on holiday back in '82 or '83. It was light, not greasy and with the very first bite caused an eruption of flavours to burst forth in my mouth. I was hooked. I spent the rest of the two week holiday, on the island of Skiathos, trying Moussaka at every opportunity. Since then, I have had fabulous renditions and dire attempts. I also make it myself, and that's my favourite. I make a vegetarian version with tofu and lentils and that is really delicious. But I adore lamb and when I can get a hold of ground or minced lamb, I will invariably make the recipe I am sharing with you today.

Still, I would love to go back to that tiny Taverna in Athens just down from the Parthenon and eat that particular Moussaka again and all that went along with it. The holiday, the solitude, the bright sunshine and the feeling of walking around in history... I'd just switch out my travelling companion for a certain man with strong arms, loving and gentle hands, a beguiling smile and eyes like a storm on the Aegean Sea... sigh.

Because food is more than just a flavour, it's a memory as well. Mine includes my legs feeling sunburned from the beach and tired from walking up to the Acropolis, the sharp resin taste of a cold Retsina wine and the salad we ate: creamy feta, Kalamata olives, fresh oregano and a red-wine vinaigrette mixed with chunks of cucumbers (hold the tomatoes, thanks) which complimented the rich main dish. The Taverna was cool inside and it was fun to look out and people watch; the tourists and the locals intermingling on the busy pedestrian passage.

The walk up to the Acropolis is worth it, even if it is tremendously tiring, because you are walking through all these little alleys and passageways (like the one to the left) with the backs of the houses actually carved into the rock face behind it: these houses are part of Mount Olympus in a very real sense.

What struck me most about Athens, especially the older bit of the city on the walk up to the Acropolis, were the old ladies dressed in black sitting in their whitewashed doorways with their cats. They don't seem to pay attention to the hundreds of people filing past their homes, invading their personal space, they seemed preoccupied to me, their thoughts elsewhere.

In their minds possibly preparing meals for their menfolk who left to go to war and never returned... as they have sat as such in the same doorways for millennia.

Generations of women who gave up their fathers, their sons and their brothers to a war they didn't understand.

Gave up their husbands, their life companions to some cause and now all that remained were their memories, their dreams and the ubiquitous cats. Sitting in the sunshine, their hands busy with their Rosary beads, their bright eyes seeing a scene I could not. I found that so sad. So incredibly sad.

This particular Moussaka recipe isn't too difficult to prepare, it just needs a lot of preparation so allow at least an hour for that. You put together five parts, similar to my lasagne: fried or grilled egglant slices, a white sauce, a meaty red sauce, fresh breadcrumbs and cheese

The Eggplant part
Wash 3 Medium eggplants, slice 2/3"/4cm thick, salt and let drain for 1/2 hour while you prepare the white sauce and start the red sauce. Then dry eggplant and shake in a bag with flour and a good grind of black pepper. Brown in a bit of hot olive oil. Be careful with the amount of oil, and use only enough to brown a few slices at a time. The eggplant is like a gready sponge and will absorb an amazing amount of oil if you let it, and greasy Moussaka is gross. Drain the eggplant and reserve. Or, you can grill the eggplant without flouring it until it is slightly brown, which is how I tend to do it now. (Or even get frozen, grilled eggplant slices, easiest!)

The White Sauce part
In a saucepan over medium heat mix together:
6 Tbl Butter
6 Tbl flour
Whisk for a couple minutes until well blended, add:
750 ml (3 cups) milk
Gently bring to a boil, stirring, and simmer couple minutes. Whisk a cup or so of this mixture into:
3 eggs, well beaten. Whisk the egg mixture back into the white sauce and bring up to a very gentle simmer, whisking just until thick. Do not boil, or sauce will scramble.
Add:
Good grating of nutmeg
dash Tabasco Sauce
Let White Sauce cool. It should be quite thick. Note that the white sauce can be prepared a day ahead of time, covered and refrigerated.

The Red Sauce part
Brown well together in heavy frying pan:
2 Tbl olive oil
500g ground lamb.
Drain grease. Add:
1 large onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, chopped
Sauté around until the onion is limp. Add:
250ml can tomato sauce
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
tsp dried leaf oregano
Tbl chopped parsley
Tbl chopped mint
bit of salt and pepper
Simmer gently until quite thick. The red sauce can be prepared well ahead of time, and keeps well refrigerated or you can freeze it.

Breadcrumbs and Cheese part.
You will also need 250g dry bread crumbs. Make fresh by blitzing in a food processor then spread out on a baking tray and leave in a slow oven, stirring occasionally.
Also 500g grated Mozzarella cheese and 150g or so of grated Parmesan or Romano cheese.

To assemble the Moussaka
You need a either good sized casserole with a cover or a lasagne dish you can cover with aluminium foil. Put about 1/3 of the eggplant on the bottom in a solid layer. Trim eggplant to fit. Spread 1/2 of the red sauce on top. Spread 1/3 of white sauce over red. Sprinkle with 1/2 of the cheese, 1/3 of the crumbs. Repeat this set of layers. Then put in a layer of the rest of the eggplant, the rest of the white sauce and cover with the rest of the crumbs. Garnish top with a sprinkle of ground red chile or paprika and a small handful of chopped parsley. Cover, and bake at 350°F/160°C for an hour, uncover and bake until browned on top and bubbly. Serve with a green salad, good bread and a bottle of light red wine. Greek Retsina wine is quite wonderful with this.

La Rentrée: well, one down, one to go.

2011-01-03T14:22:00.000+01:00

Little one started back this morning. It's particularly tough getting up, dressed and petite déjeunered when it's still pitch black outside.

She is rather excited since tomorrow is her eleventh birthday. It amazes me how the year has flown past. She is still undecided as to the cake I'm to make for the event. And I got a firm "Non" to my idea of Birthday Cupcakes for the class. It seems only Chupa-Chups will do. Cupcakes are better but are apparently still an unknown entity to most French children around these parts. Philistines.

Big one goes back tomorrow. We have yet to locate her French textbook so devoirs can be finished completely. She is currently rooting around in various hiding places.
"Honey? Why did you need to hide it?"
A long careful consideration later...
"I don't know."

I'm honestly going to miss their company come tomorrow. I never thought I'd admit that, but, I'll feel lonely without their little quarrelling, noisy, curious, enchanting selves about the house.

A minute in history

2011-01-01T11:11:00.002+01:00

This is the beginning of a new day.
I can waste it or use it for good.
What I do today is important because I am exchanging a day of my life for it.
When tomorrow comes, this day will be gone forever,
leaving in its place something I have traded for it.
I want it to be a gain, not a loss;
good, not evil;
success, not failure —
in order that I shall not regret the price I paid for it today.

Adieu 2010 et Bienvenue 2011

2010-12-31T00:59:00.011+01:00

And ye, who have met with Adversity's blast,
And been bow'd to the earth by its fury;
To whom the Twelve Months, that have recently pass'd
Were as harsh as a prejudiced jury -
Still, fill to the Future! and join in our chime,
The regrets of remembrance to cozen,
And having obtained a New Trial of Time,
Shout in hopes of a kindlier dozen.
~Thomas Hood

Yes, these past twelve months have been anything but kind to me. I am sincerely hoping and silently praying that the next stretch of time is better. In all respects.

Drop the last year into the silent limbo of the past. Let it go, for it was imperfect, and thank God that it can go. ~Brooks Atkinson

One fortunate thing that we as humans can do, is to change. We are not bound to reacting like animals under the yoke of instinct, destined to relentlessly repeating behaviours in response to given stimuli. Following blindly a set of fixed action patterns that are both unlearned and inherited. We don't have to, we can choose to think and respond differently. And we don't have to wait for Evolution to cause the adaptations, we can just decide, right now, to live, think and act differently.

So, I guess I'm one up on woodlice.

A happy New Year! Grant that I
May bring no tear to any eye
When this New Year in time shall end
Let it be said I've played the friend,
Have lived and loved and labored here,
And made of it a happy year.
~Edgar Guest

I've decided upon just one New Year's Resolution. Just the one because I want to focus and try my hardest to achieve it.

I resolve to think before I speak. To carefully consider what I am about to say before I open my mouth to speak. To filter my words through kindness, sympathy, consideration and respect. To consider my audience and how they are likely to perceive my expression of self. Thereby, to do no harm to anyone.

Goodbye 2010. You've been happy, deceitful, joyous, frustrating, unkind, wistful, damn difficult and full of regrets, shame, tears and broken promises. You stole from me one of the things which I held most dear and for that I will ever despise you. So I frankly have to admit I don't mind seeing the back of you.

I can only offer to the future and the present that I am a work in progress, that I am honestly trying to become a better person and I hope that forgiveness for past transgressions will one day be found.

All I can now say, all that I can now add to what has been said before is this:

'I'm truly sorry to have hurt you, please accept my apology.'

And now what I must do is to stand back, let go, be patient and hope for the best.

Then like a wave upon the shore, it was gone....

France Telecom: more Orange than Lemon... this time.

2010-12-27T11:52:00.000+01:00

Amusing conversation with France Telecom, aka Orange and telephony + internet + TV cable top box provider.

"Hello. Last time we spoke, you said that if I needed to hard boot the Livebox again, it would need to be replaced."

"Yes, I can see that from our last conversation when we reset your box together. I take it the Livebox is still causing troubles?"

"Well, this is the fourth time I have rebooted the Livebox today. Just so I could access the internet and make a phone call."

"Why exactly did you need to reboot the box?"

"Because it doesn't work unless I do."

"The Livebox needs to be replaced, yes, agreed."

"So, tell me why I should stay with France Telecom? The Livebox is buggy and always has been, you charge more a month than SFR and I don't get the same coverage as they offer for less. Convince me I should stay with you as my provider. I'm listening."

"I can suggest switching you over to our 2010 plan. It provides all calls to the places you dial most often, France Metropolitan, the UK and fixed lines plus cell numbers in the USA. This includes your Broadband internet, the TV set top box and all for 42.99€ per month. We'll even include a 3G dongle as part of the package. Plus, as far as I'm aware SFR does not offer the same TV set top box that we provide."

"They have a different one, besides, mine has never worked. I complained about it, but no one could ever figure out why it didn't work, not even the technician who came out to do the initial install."

"Hmmmm..." (sound of tapping and papers shifting...)

"Is your satellite dish working properly? Is it just the set top box that doesn't function?"

"What satellite dish? The set top box plugs into the live box and the TV is also plugged into the antennae on the roof. I don't have a satellite dish, never have."

"Ah... I see where the problem lies. You have a satellite set top box, it doesn't function without a dish."

"Why is that no one picked up on this before?"

"I very sorry this occurred, but perhaps... you never asked the right question?"

...Quite. As so often is the case here in France. People only answer questions posed. You need to know the right questions to ask. If not? Tough titties. No one will willingly offer suggestions or alternatives. Unless you happen to be speaking to a GOOD person from Assistance Sociale (and I have dealt with dreadful fonctionnaires, believe me.) Or, as was the case with France Telecom; you phone the English language help line and speak to someone who shares your mother tongue.

Say what you will about Americans, but at least as a whole we try to be helpful!

Oh, and yes, I decided to stay with France Telecom.

The last time I was struggling to explain the difficulties I was facing, (all in French) because the Livebox wasn't working, calling on my pay-as-you-go mobile phone, (which I had to recharge twice during the calls,) they suggested calling the English Language help line. One call to them, they called me back on THEIR dime and everything was sorted in minutes. SFR do not provide an English language help line. So, at least France Telecom are trying to be helpful to the Expat Community. I'll reward that with my business.

So now just to wait for a new Livebox, my dongle and my proper TV set top box. How exciting, we'll have more than just the standard five channels. I'll now get to watch 'Strictly Come Something' and find out what all the fuss is about.

(Or not...)

Happy Christmas!

2010-12-25T16:33:00.000+01:00

May I wish you and yours a very happy, joyful and peaceful Christmas.
Let us raise our glasses and toast absent friends.

I'll always believe that miracles can happen.

I hope and pray that one comes your way, just when you need it.

Joyeux Noël

Something written in less-than-three

2010-12-23T01:15:00.000+01:00

Rain falling down
Cold, turning the snow to wet, grey mush
Freezing in the wind, overnight turning hard
Shattering crisp with a light step
Early, stepping out, key guarding those asleep
Morning darkness turning grey pink tinge

My breath in white clouds
My chest burning
Salty stinging
The pain overwhelming
Walking, waiting, hoping, praying

Every other step a punishment
Pushing forward regardless
Trying not to limp but failing
The pain in my chest mocking me
My body is my harshest critic

Walking, trying to clear my mind, my thoughts
Past failures rush in, crowding any chance of Zen
How do I say I'm so sorry? How do I express regret?
How can I get past this hopelessness
When it's only the echo of my own voice that's heard?

Show me the path to redemption
Allow me the road map to forgiveness
Fulfil the promise that was always there
Give me the chance to laugh again
Warm my soul with your smile

In the between-time, that sacred space that lies between dream and reality
You and I lie tangled again in each other's arms
Breathing the same air
Our hearts occupying the same space
And for a breath, for an instant, we are still we

Merry Christmas from the Budweiser Clydesdale Horses

2010-12-20T12:24:00.000+01:00

This had the girls and I giggling...

I know it's from last year, but, I've only just seen it!

Acapella Africa from Toto

2010-12-16T09:25:00.000+01:00

I ran across this song by Perpetuum Jazzile on Facebook, linked from one of my friends. (Thanks Twyla!)

It gave me shivers, just a beautiful rendition. Even if you're too young to remember this the first time around, as seemed to be the general consensus on Facebook, it's still well worth listening.

EDF Alerte Orange

2010-12-13T20:01:00.000+01:00

I just received this in my inbox:

La Bretagne est placée sous Alerte Orange EcoWatt demain, mardi 14 décembre. Les consommations d'électricité vont connaître une augmentation significative, notamment aux heures de pointe. L'ensemble des partenaires EcoWatt est mobilisé.
Nous vous invitons à modérer vos consommations d'électricité particulièrement demain matin et demain soir entre 18h et 20h.

What that means is that they are expecting colder-than-normal weather here in our region, and as a consequence EDF, the electricity company is warning there might be brown-outs.

The reason being that people crank up the two-bar fires and oil-filled radiators to cope with this bitter snap cold snap we're experiencing here.

This morning it was 3°C in our living room! That's 37°F! OK, it was colder outside, but not by much.

The building where we live was built sometime mid-1800s. It is granite block construction, however, when it was dry-lined a few years back, they failed to put even a smidgeon of insulation between the granite and the plasterboard. As a result of the mean and centime-pinching economy of materials, it's often cold enough to hang meat in here, and safely at that.

Last winter I spent a mind-boggling 1000€ plus keeping it warm enough for all three of us. This year I'm only warming the girl's room (they've moved into the same room together) and warming the living room first thing in the morning and again after sunset around 5 pm or so, at night. Of course during these 'Alertes', I hold off until after 8pm. I'm so thankful we are no longer under dreaded Tempo, because during Alertes, the cost of electricity sky-rockets.

I've taken to wearing two pairs of socks, sweatpants, a camisole, turtle-neck sweaters, a cardigan, gloves and a hat. Sometimes even to bed. Très sexy. I have placed down duvets on the couch and we snuggle underneath at night together and watch TV. I'm making loads of warming soups, so even though it's parky, our tummies aren't complaining.

Possibly because we are forcing our bodies to adapt to the cold, none of us have had so much as a sniffle for months. Last illness was this horrid 'gastro' that caused severe cramping for weeks, literally. I had it quite bad, but luckily the oldest just had a touch, and youngest went completely unaffected.

Well, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? I'm certainly hoping that's true. About a lot of things...

Resilience

2010-12-08T09:12:00.001+01:00

"Resilience is accepting your new reality, even if it's less good than the one you had before. You can fight it, you can do nothing but scream about what you've lost, or you can accept that and try to put together something that's good." - Elizabeth Edwards

I found this quote posted elsewhere, and I thought I needed to write it down to remind myself of a few hard facts. I can never go home, not really. 'Home' will have changed, and 'I' will have changed, and not in the same ways, not at the same rate and many changes will be subtle and unseen and unacknowledged. So trying to fit back into that old mould of myself will cause everyone concerned to feel awkward and probably pretty embarrassed. My old mates, my childhood friends, the people who knew me 'back then' are reacting to the old version of myself, and I am no longer that person. And do I really want to BE that undeveloped, immature and inchoate rendition? As I look back, I find that I was more a rough draft, a sketch, a conception with potential for realisation.

Who wants to live life as a pencilled cartoon? I don't. I much prefer these multi-layers of colour, of form, of texture. It shows I've lived. My face may be lined, but the lines come from laughter, from experiencing , the continuance and struggles and joy everyone experiences when they explore what it actually means to be human on this planet and at this time period.

My hair is greying, because each day I get older, I can't stop the march of time. Last night I actually paused for many long minutes and looked at the hair colouring products on the shelves. I thought, "If I appear younger, will that help me function better? Will I feel better about myself? Will I at least look more attractive?" I picked up the various boxes from the huge array on offer, seriously, it comprises almost an entire aisle in Intermarché. Maybe bleach my hair blonde? Men prefer blondes, I've heard. Or maybe that's just what the blonde bimbos want us to believe. I once had to dye my hair dark brownish-black for a role in theatre, that would certainly be a change! But no, I'd no longer look like the mother of my two very blonde daughters and rather blond son. I tried matching my hair colour to something from a bottle, but nothing really came close. And I really hate to look fake. Plus, I never want the phrase, "Mutton dressed as Lamb" ever whispered about me. So in the end I decided against it. The one and only time I spent the cash to have my hair coloured, not ONE person noticed any difference whatsoever. And frankly, neither could I myself. So seriously, why bother? I guess it helps having naturally Titian hair; more subtle than Red, not as brassy as Strawberry Blonde and more interesting than Ginger. I can see how women (and men) who have dark hair might choose to colour it, but, nah, not for me. Not at this point in my life.

So, since it doesn't matter, why worry over it?

Yeah, I'd like to have back that hot little bod which was me before three caesarian sections and three stints breastfeeding. I wish the car accident hadn't occurred which caused my deformed right leg and constant pain when I walk, if I think about it, that is. I've trained myself to ignore a certain threshold of pain, which is possibly why I never realise I've burned myself in the kitchen, until later, when blisters form. I simply don't feel it. However, no one will ever see the hot little bod since I abhor wearing revealing clothes, I'm extremely modest in my dress. Plus you'll not get ME in a swimming cozzie unless I'm suitably bribed and forced and I must do it to take the girls to the swimming baths or the beach. As it's December, I'm safe for now.

We exchange one thing for another. Life commerce. I traded my youth for my three wonderful children. There's not a chance you'd ever find me wish for different. I'd go back immediately and make the same choices that placed me here where I am right now.

OK, honestly? I'd not make a few mistakes I've made if given the chance. But we live. And we learn.

We cannot live in the past, we cannot go back and *fix* the past, we have to live in the present. If we can learn from our mistakes then perhaps, with time, we'll stop making the same ones over and over. We have to first love ourselves and accept ourselves, as we are. *I* especially need to do that. I need to apologise to those I've harmed with unkindness, whether it was meant or not. Then I need to forgive myself, stop ranting about how life has changed and try to make something good out of what I have right now.

So, I guess that's what I need to focus on.

No one said life would be a cake walk...

Melancholy Monday

2010-12-06T12:14:00.001+01:00

Monday...
Grey day. Seems like nothing is going right day.

I'm hurting...

But... crying helps.
A bit.

Sometimes... I just need to allow myself to feel pain, anger, bitterness, regret, remorse and know that the Sun will still be shining tomorrow, even if it is behind the clouds. I'm still this side of the flowerbed. Life is bleak but it's better than the alternative. Clichés all of them, but they work.

Depression, this overwhelming sucking blackness that wants to consume me, is something that just wicks every bit of joy and hope from me. But I refuse to succumb to the awful drugs from before, the drugs that wrapped me in cotton wool and prevented me from feeling. From living. From being in the moment. From truly interacting with reality and life.

Answers never will be found in a bottle, regardless of the substance the bottle contains. Answers can only be found inside yourself. You simply have to look. Then look some more.

It took me many long difficult months to wean myself from the antidepressant drugs and their lulling effects, months spent feeling these painful 'electrical zaps' in my head, dizziness, vertigo and an altered sense of reality as the Doctor-prescribed addiction was wrenched from my body, my mind. From my brain.

(And those long months are enough for their own special Blog post.)

It's just... drugs are such an easy option, you see? Do I really want to feel this pain in my life? This gnawing ache and agony that appears whenever I still my mind to sleep? It's unbearable at times.

But I need to function at full capacity. I have my children, they need their Mummy to be here for them. Because the 'sperm donor' that was their father so obviously is not. That's their term for him, not mine, by the way. Tragic and rather sad, maybe, but he will never again be 'Daddy' to them. Even when he forces them to call him that on his infrequent, irregular and unplanned visits. They mock him when they are safely home and away from 'him'. That's the basis of my daughters' bitterness: his lies, his broken promises, the fact he won't help them. The damage caused has all been from his own hand.

I have another Court date in March to face him for Child Support, a legal and moral obligation which he has always refused. This is not my doing, but the French Goverment, absent parents are obliged to pay 'Pension Alimentaire' it's the law of the land. As my lawyer has stated, it's being sent to Saint Brieuc, to the Tribunal de Grand Instance, the main high courts for our département. He won't get away with feigning he doesn't speak French this time, or has no fixed abode, or claiming he hasn't a job - the French view 'travaille noir' as work. With the new legislation between EU countries, the French can now hunt him down in the UK. And they will, they take a very dim view of parents who financially abandon their children. Plus, it's so stupid, if he'd just go down to Social Security and fill out paperwork, the UK would pay FOR him. But, that's too much effort.

Yeah... a lot of anger there. However it was my choice to take my daughters away from a dysfunctional family and bring them to a place where they are happy, they feel safe and they thrive. My children are my focus and always will be. They HAVE to be.

So I listen to Snow Patrol and Kate Nash and The Beatles and I cry until there is nothing left but numbness and emptiness. And I remember that even if this is where I am now, I still have choices. I still have a future, uncertain as it may be. I still have my children and my skills. I still have my smile, my Choctaw cheekbones, my artistic flair and my enviable je ne sais quoi. As long as I have those things and pair them with my sense of humour and ability to laugh at myself and all my silly foibles, life isn't so bad after all. And after musing on this and writing about it, I begin to feel better...

A bit.

SNOW!! And Winter Soup

2010-12-02T19:39:00.000+01:00

Today the Transports Scolaire were unable to safely take to the roads here in Côtes d'Armor, so, a day off school for both girls. Plus tomorrow is the same. We have had just about constant snowfall now for days. The snow ranges from very tiny icy particles to big feathery flakes. I reminds me of a Currier & Ives Christmas Card.

Both girls insist upon going out in it, carrying black plastic rubbish bags so they can slide down the snowy slopes. Then come in with very cold bums and huddle under feather duvets on the couch, sipping hot cocoa (the kind you make on the stove.)

It's fun to be a kid.

I'm making soup every other day since it's a great winter warmer and the girls love it. Add in inexpensive and it's a winner!

Winter soup

200g smoked lardons of bacon

2 onions, peeled and chopped

2-4 cloves of garlic, peeled and minced

2 Tbl Olive oil

3 Tbl Barley

1 kg bag frozen soup vegetables (leek, swede, carrot, cauliflower, etc.)

4-6 medium potatoes, scrubbed well and chunked into bite-size pieces

Vegetable or Chicken stock (homemade or use stock cubes and hot water)

Sauté the bacon and the onion in the olive oil until the onion is soft but not browned. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant and soft. Add in the barley, soup veg and potatoes and cover with the stock. Bring to a boil, cover, reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes.

That's the basic recipe.

To make it a bit different: instead of the potatoes, I add in a handful of pasta at the end or a cup of brown rice (but then I allow 45 minutes simmering to cook the brown rice.)

I add in a couple handfuls of finely sliced kale.

I add in a tin of chopped tomatoes, a tin of white beans and several tablespoons of pesto to make a kind of Minestrone.

Sometimes I'll add in leftover chopped ham or sliced chipolatas or blobs of ground turkey or a couple broken-up steak hachée instead of the lardons.

It's a very versatile base recipe.

Try it soon, just the thing for a winter warmer.

Soupe de Potimarron

2010-11-28T20:24:00.005+01:00

The Potimarron, also known as Red Kuri Squash, Uchiki Kuri Squash, Small Red Hubbard or Orange Hokkaido in the United States, is a beautifully-coloured winter squash found in our local markets in abundance at the moment.

The word 'squash' comes from the Algonquin Native American words askoot asquash, meaning “to eat green.” An annual plant with trailing stems, of the Cucurbitaceae family, Potimarron is the cultivated variety of the species Cucurbita maxima. This hardy winter squash grows to maturity in full sun and is drought tolerant. The squash matures about ninety days after blooming. It is widely grown here in France, especially in and around the Provence region.

The teardrop-shaped Potimarron squash with it's intense, sunset-coloured rind has a pronounced, distinctive chestnut flavour. Poti for Potiron (pumpkin) Marron for Marron (chestnut.) This makes it a unique soup base that lends itself to pairings with many other ingredients. The skin is edible when cooked and adds a lovely golden colour to the dish. Potimarron is a good source of fibre. It also provides vitamin A and vitamin C, some of the B vitamins, calcium, potassium, iron, riboflavin, thiamine. Low in calories and sodium, this deep-coloured squash also contains beta-carotene.

I think one of the most interesting things about the Potimarron, besides it's rich taste that just begs for cooking with butter, olive oil and fresh herbs, is the fact that, unlike other winter squash such as pumpkin, Butternut or Acorn squash, the skin is completely edible when cooked!

(OK, ok, don't call me out on this, you CAN eat cooked Butternut squash skin, I'm just not overly keen on it and you certainly can't really blitz it into a soup. But now I've stated that, you know I'll need to go try it. An experiment will be done as soon as I pick up a Butternut squash from the market, and I'll get back to you with the results!)

But let's start off with something simple that plays upon the rich marriage of chestnut, carrot and pumpkin flavours found in this lovely little squash. Let's make Potimarron soup.

And as long as you have a hand blender, it has to be one of the simplest soups on the planet. Also one of the most filling, you most likely will only manage one bowl!

Ingredients:
One Potimarron, washed thoroughly but skin left on.
A couple handfuls of roasted, peeled and softened chestnuts, either from a jar, tin or ones you've roasted and peeled yourself.
A litre or two of vegetable or chicken stock. Or use water and a stock cube or 'stock jelly', that's what I do.
Single or whipping cream (optional)


You simply take a potimarron, cut off the stem and stern hard bits.

And scoop out the seeds.

Then, either chunk it in pieces and simmer until tender in stock or roast in the oven until fork tender. This is one I roasted in the oven. It concentrated the flavour, I think, but the other method is easier!

The cooked Potimarron and chestnuts, ready for stock and immersion blender!

Either cooking method you choose, put the potimarron with a handful of softened, roasted chestnuts and several cups of stock in a saucepan and blitz with your immersion blender or batch blend in a blender. You'll need to continually add more stock as you blend it, it is very thick. Then simply reheat gently but be careful, it will start to plop like molten lava as it comes up to a simmer, so keep it on a medium heat and stir! Adjust seasoning, adding salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.

To serve, simply place three or four of the roasted chestnuts in the bottom of your soup bowl and ladle the soup on top. Finish with a swirl of cream, if you like, but it's not really necessary.

In the soup I show above, I blended the cream into the soup. The dark flecks you see are the roasted skin of the Potimarron. I could have blended it a bit better, I suppose, or passed it through a chinoise, but, it was just for us and the girls certainly didn't mind!

Thank you to Kathy G and Irene HWH for the above recipe, we all love it here Chez CheshireChat!

Now, this soup is great as is, however, I've just done it again today with a slight variation I think I prefer. I sautéed a chopped large white onion in some olive oil and butter, about a Tablespoon of each, then added the raw, chunked Potimarron and chicken stock along with a three inch or so piece of peeled and finely sliced fresh ginger root. Let the ingredients simmer until the Potimarron was fork tender, probably 15 minutes. Blitzed that together and left out the chestnuts as I didn't have any. No cream either. It was a very fresh and delicious soup and I think I'll make it again next time like this, but add fresh marjoram or chives. See? It's a great jumping off place for any number of variations!

Go get a Potimarron and try it yourself and let me know how you like it!

Writing Letters

2010-11-20T19:05:00.002+01:00

When I feel at odds with the world, at odds with myself or confused with my situation, I write.

Sometimes it's a letter, oft-times it's a short story and from time to time it's just a long spilling out of disjointed thoughts.

Now, a lot of the time, this writing is just for me, or for a dear and close friend. Sometimes I write something completely stupid, I offend those around me, and because it is in fact written, I can't easily take it back. It's just as bad with my spoken words. I can be a bit of a hothead, I know this, I do NOT know when to step back and just shut up, I keep talking and digging myself in deeper, and deeper, and deeper until I can no longer see the light of day, let alone the person I was speaking with. Because they've high-tailed it out of here.

Honestly, you'd think after 52-nearly-53 years on Terra Firma, I'd have understood this about myself, I'd have learned to keep my thoughts to myself until fully formed and coherent, but, oh no.

Well... until now. Now I have learned this hard lesson, now I am applying it to my life.

Now that it's too late.

So, what I have decided to do is to write again. I need this outlet here, I need to communicate, I must be allowed to express how I feel or I shall explode. It's therapeutic for me. None of YOU need to read this, it's mostly just for me, it's how I need to cope with overwhelming changes going on around me. How I need to find my Northern Star, fix a course and attempt to tack my way through these stormy seas ahead. Come about. Beware of the boom. And try not to fall overboard.

The information I will put here will have little to do with my children, as I know 'certain individuals' still stalk me through this medium. However, there comes a time when you need to stand up to bullies, to people who would attempt to control your life, a life they no longer have any hold over whatsoever.

So, leave me alone, you know who you are, go find your own life and control that, you hear?

I shall be here writing letters, lots of them. The difference now is that I will re-read these letters, these missives, these musings; I will carefully edit them, I will ruminate over my different turns of phrase as I consider my words, as I reflect and contemplate, hold them up to the light and turn them this way and that. You see, in many ways, it's rather a labour of love what I am doing. Loving myself enough to effect change IN myself. Letting myself reach out and offer my words as little pieces of my soul.

The biggest difference between before and now is that even though I shall be crafting my words into what represents my self, in all possibility, in all certainty, I will never, ever send all of them.

Because sometimes, not hitting send is the very best thing you can do.

There... I already feel much better. All things considered.

A Very Sad Blog post but unfortunately, very necessary.

2010-02-22T13:31:00.000+01:00

Because my long divorced ex-husband is using this blog for stalking information on me, I have decided to close it. This is a decision that I have not come to lightly, I have really had to put some thought into this choice, and it breaks my heart to leave, since it is so healing, this writing and communicating, but I really have no choice.
Thank you to everyone who has commented and left nice messages and has followed me this far.

I will get in contact with some of you directly.

Quiches from Kitty,

LaCheshireChat x

Her Morning Elegance

2010-01-27T14:07:00.007+01:00

Take some clever and witty stop action, add a truly brilliant concept and you get the following video which I ran across this morning.
I found it so completely delightful, technically so very well done plus it gave me such a giggly, happy and uplifted feeling, that I just HAD to share it!

Please, enjoy! I hope you like it as much as I have!

Tartiflette or "Bacon, cheese, potatoes, onion; what's not to like?"

2010-01-25T23:33:00.001+01:00

Mmmmm... cheese....

If you live in the Alpine (meaning - actual Alps) Haute-Savoie region, you get to ingest a lot of hearty food, quite often based around cheese. I don't see this as a bad thing, but then, I'm not lactose-intolerant. Cheese Fondue, Pizza Tartiflette, Raclette, oh... and this particular recipe that follows.

Now, for the life of me, I have NO idea why I have never thought to attempt Tartiflette myself, but have always bought it, frozen, in a bag and just sorta re-heated the stuff either in a frying pan on the stove, or dumped into a casserole, and heated until done dish in the oven.

Tartifle means potato in the Savoyard dialect. The actual dish Tartiflette, features a raw milk, semi-pressed cheese (that resembles Brie in appearance) plus said tartifles or potatoes. According to a Haute-Savoie site:

"Tartiflette cheese is produced in the Grand Bornand, the Aravis and the Clusaz regions. There is a long history behind this cheese. In the 13th century the farmers rented their mountain pastures and paid the owners according to the quantity of milk produced. Thus, on the day the owner visited the pasture to collect the rent the farmers would only partially milk their cows. A second milking produced a very rich fatty milk, which in turn was used to make the Reblochon cheese. ‘Re-blocher’ means ‘milk a second time’."

Well, the other night I saw a block of Reblochon 'Tartiflette cheese' at Leclerc, thought about it a bit, then decided the cheese, potatoes and other ingredients cost about half what the frozen package costs, plus it would make a lot more. And in these rather difficult economic times, we have to eat as cheaply, but as healthy, as possible. And look! There's a recipe on the back of the cheese pack! Cool.
So, I bought the less-expensive Leclerc brand and gathered the other things I needed.

Of course, any recipe is just some sort of starting place, as far as I'm concerned. So, I changed it, a bit.

Older daughter doesn't care too much for Reblochon, so she gets the Mozzarella covered bit. Clean potato skins are full of fibre plus add a bit of texture, so, I did not peel the potatoes. Many recipes call for cream or leave it or the wine out entirely. For me, the crème fraîche and white wine addition added a real lushness. I mean, I can microwave a jacket potato and cover it in melted cheese and bacon. If we are going to the trouble of making a dish, let's go all the way! Allons-z!

Tartiflette

(serves 4-6)

1 1/2 kg potatoes (3lbs) scrubbed well and sliced thickly

2 large onions, peeled and finely diced

200 g lardons fumé or smoked streaky bacon, diced (8 ozs)
25 g butter (1 oz)

1 garlic clove, peeled and minced or squished

150ml (5 ounces) white wine (1 wine glass... ish)
1 small 25cl (8 oz) container crème fraîche or sour cream
sea salt
fresh ground black pepper
1 ripe (if possible) Reblochon cheese (500g) or Crémier de Chaumes, Epoisses or even Brie.

2 balls of fresh Mozzarella 125g each (8-10 oz total) or the equivalent in shredded. Or use Pizza cheese mix.

Bring a large pan of lightly salted water to the boil and cook the potatoes until just fork tender, approximately 10-15 minutes. Drain.
Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F/gas mark 5.
Sauté the onion and bacon in the butter in a heavy frying pan over a medium heat until the onion is soft and sweated, but not browned.
Add the garlic and stir that into the onions and bacon. You want to just cook the garlic until it becomes soft and fragrant. At that point, add the white wine, the creme fraîche and mix well.
Place the sliced potatoes across the base of an oven-proof dish, either earthenware or Pyrex, (I used a Lasagne dish) then season the potatoes with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper and pour over the onion/bacon/crème fraîche mixture.
Cut the Reblochon cheese in half so you end up with two rounds, and place them cut sides down over the potatoes/bacon/etc. Sprinkle the grated Mozzarella or cut-up fresh Mozza balls into the spaces where the Reblochon rounds don't reach..
Bake for 10 minutes in that pre-heated oven, then reduce the heat to 180C/350’F/gas mark 4 for a further 20-25 minutes, until the cheese is bubbly and lightly browned.

Serve with crusty baguette, a bit of green salad and some cornichons. A glass of that white wine wouldn't go amiss either.

Snow Update: 10-Jan-2010

2010-01-10T10:01:00.003+01:00

I have figured out how to add images taken with my phone directly into Blogger, whoohay! let's hear it for technology! so without further ado, I give you the current state of our snow coverage here in my part of Central Bretagne. Yes, that's right, just right around 49 cm accumulation, so far, which has completely brought travel on public transport to a grinding halt, closed schools and even stopped Recovery Vehicles from being able to rescue motorists; people have to just leave their cars where they end up, lock up, and come back later. We are still under a 'Vigilance Orange' for this region, with MORE snow to come over the next few days, so, who knows how much we will eventually end up with? Certainly the older residents down our road have said they have never seen anything like this happen to this area ever, and since most are in their 80's and 90's, I have to take their view as pretty accurate, at least for this area of Côtes d'Armor.

The 'Centres d'Accueil' in the region, which deal with those less fortunate, the homeless, the people managing on or below poverty level, have been opened and the services strengthened, something I do appreciate in this culture, you won't starve here as long as you avail yourself of the Public Services.

Vigilance Orange and Chocolat Chaud à la Ancienne

2010-01-06T11:43:00.000+01:00

So all of today, our region, along with several others in Bretagne, Normandy and the Loire, is under a heightened weather alert for 24 hours. This basically means the rubbish and recycling trucks were cancelled (and I could sleep past 6.30 on a Wednesday,) ALL local buses and school transport is cancelled (but my oldest daughter still tecked into collége as THEY aren't fermé,) and people are advised to stay home unless directly necessary since the gritter trucks have NOT been past on anything save the major highways.

Now normally I wouldn't care a bean, since I can just curl up with my youngest daughter and two purrRRrrRRring cats in front of the (electric, oil-filled) fire and stay warm, drink chocolat chaud à la ancienne, turning the vile box of chocolate truffles we received as a obvious afterthought from a friend, into something actually de-lish.

(OK, now on THAT score, just say, "I'm sorry, I completely forgot to get you anything, can I make it up later?" when I hand you your carefully wrapped and thoughtfully chosen present, don't put us in the sitting room with Gran, who is deaf, and your nieces and nephews who are on The Sugar High from Hell, and bustle off to return with a box of truffles (minus one) shoved into a Christmas gift bag and spout, "Happy Christmas! I know how you love chockkies!" I mean, please?)

So normally, I'd just be happy to watch the flacons de neige fall from the sky and marvel how this 'light dusting of snow' (by Vermont Standards) has basically gridlocked Central Bretagne.

But TODAY is the first day of Les Soldes d'Hiver - the Winter Sales, here in France, which go on for 6 weeks, then end. Period, by law, stop.

Now, as someone who worked many years in Retail in California, (May Company, Mikasa, etc. 'Which would you rather do? Work in Retail or drive a nail through your hand? Hmm... how big is the nail?') my first thought was, "Seriously? You have a 'Sale Season' twice a year mandated by law... and you can't just have for instance, a One-Day Sale, whenever you please, outside of that? You must be joking." But it's the truth. If, for instance, your business is closing down, (as Vétimarché is doing right now all over France,) you have to apply to the Government for a special waiver that has a start and end date, you have to pay for this privilege and a copy of the 'writ' giving express permission must be posted on the premises. Whoa.

Ah well, the Sales will have to start without me today, however, it better be nice for the weekend, since I want to take my girls, and the money I've set aside, and go shopping in either Saint Brieuc or Lorient or possibly Rennes.

But for today, I think I'll just sit here and admire this falling snow outside my window. And have another mug of Hot Chocolate.

This recipe that follows is one that was served here in France to Aristocrats before that whole kerfuffle in 1789. Now it can be enjoyed by any citoyen, and you as well, I hope. Then at the end, I give my quick version.

Chocolat Chaud à la Ancienne
This recipe is prepared the day before and gives 4 cups.

Ingredients:
125 ml (1/2 cup) water
150g (1 cup) bittersweet 65% chocolate chopped or chocolate chips
650 ml (2 2/3 cups) milk
Vanilla extract and pinch of cinnamon to taste

Preparation:
1. Heat water in a heavy-bottomed saucepan.
2. On low heat, add chocolate and stir constantly with a wooden spoon until the chocolate has completely melted.
3. Add remaining ingredients and heat slowly, stirring constantly just to the boiling point. Remove from heat.
4. Maturation: Cool, cover and refrigerate overnight.
5. Service: Heat the chocolate in a double boiler or in a large microwave safe container in the microwave. When heated, use either an electric hand blender or a immersion blender to whip and aerate the hot chocolate.

The extra step of 'Maturation' allows the chocolate to absorb the milk proteins into it's structure and gives a thick and luxurious 'mouth feel' which is usually achieved with guar gum, or the like, with instant.

Now MY quick take: Put 4-5 crappy truffles and a couple squares of plain, dark chocolate in an inch of water in the LARGE mug or a glass pyrex measuring cup. Zap in Microwave until the chocolate is warm and stirring with a spoon makes it go completely smooth and gooshy. Fill the mug or pyrex container with about ½ whole milk and nuke it again for a minute, take out and stir, zap again and stir. When the chocolate is completely blended in, add a bit more milk and microwave one last time. I like a pinch of cinnamon and a drop or two of pure vanilla extract and YOU can add whipped cream or marshmallows, if you so desire, but, it's actually great just as is. Enjoy!

Happy Birthday baby!

2010-01-04T08:43:00.001+01:00

My littlest kitten is 10 today! Happy birthday, sweetheart!

Savoury Bread Pudding or An Excuse to Make More Stuffing.

2010-01-03T22:22:00.005+01:00

The last week in November here Chez Nous went really well; we were graced with family and friends coming together to celebrate something that we Americans hold quite dear: Thanksgiving. Now, no, not just an excuse to eat but a moment in time where we stop, look back on what has gone on over the past year, give thanks for what we recieved and then look forward to the next year. That's the custom in my family, and it reaches back as far as I can remember, in a mostly unbroken chain throughout my life.

My family are Christian; on my Mother's side it stretches back to the first Quakers who came to the American colonies, my great-great-something Grandfather and great-great something Grand-Uncle. My Maternal Grandfather was a farmer and a preacher in rural Alabama from just before the turn of the last century. I went to Sunday School and Vacation Bible school from the year dot. I was baptised and confirmed. My Father used to run Bible Studies in our huge living room during the 60's. I sang in the church choir every Sunday morning for years. In fact, my parents met each other in the church choir in Chattanooga, where my Mother was working for the TVA and my Father was helping to run my grandparents' hotel and restaurant business.
So you could say we were 'Churchy', I suppose, and you might be right.
We, (my Mother, Father, Sister, Aunts, Uncles, cousins and I,) always celebrated the Christian Year and I can say this quite matter-of-factly, I have my Faith and it's private to me.

However, it has always been accepted in our family that one should 'lead by example' and that the quintessence of a person is discovered by how they act and behave towards their fellows in real life, not the words they spout. Also that a person's Faith is highly intimate and private to that particular individual. Consequently, I won't try to convert you to my way of thinking and you shouldn't try to convert me to yours. It's just not respectful. It's like saying the way YOU think, or what you believe to be true is inferior to my mindset so I need to *fix you* and change your own 'personal to you' way of thinking or your belief system, and well, excuse me, (and I look at quite a few door-knockers out there) as far as I'm concerned, that's just not on. Therefore, if you are ever curious, you may ask me about my Faith, but - I won't offer unprompted. That's just the way I am. Period. End of discussion.
So there you have it. That's my 'Religious Rant' for the year over. Thank you for listening.

The ten of us for Thanksgiving dinner turned to nine at the last moment when one of the guests on the morning of the party was diagnosed with the A1H1 virus, (which has been given the charming sobriquet of 'Swine Flu' by the media,) and they wisely but sadly had to send regrets. They were very sorely missed by all who attended, but with this Influenza Pandemic and how it has been touching so many in the local area, their choice was the best taken. So as to partially make up for their lack of partaking of the feast, a goodly portion of food was wrapped up and sent home to them, which they were then able to nuke and enjoy a few days later.

Now the turkey was, by French standards, massive; a rather astonishing 11.5 kg (or just shy of 25 1/2 pounds in Old Money) of very well-fed bird. The crop still had a few bits of whole dried maize and wheat berries inside. Charming.

(I'll point out now you never run into the crop and other bits such as the feet and ALL of the neck with the dangley head still attached when you get an American frozen Butterball turkey or even a fresh Free-Range Bronze turkey. So let's deduct 500g for the bits that went straight into a pan, did not pass go, did not get used for stock but were cooked in a small covered saucepan for our two cats to happily dine upon afterwards. Both Angel and Triskel were very thankful indeed and spent the night purring in laps, with happy cat smiles affixed.)

Now I would really like to show you the pictures I took of Monsieur Dinde covering most of the 45 cm oven top since you will remark, "How the devil did you get that thing IN there?" but since I have misplaced my lead to transfer the images over, we'll all just have to imagine LARGE turkey, tiny oven. (When I find the fool usb-thing, I have oodles of fun stuff to Blog about.)

So, let's just get on with the recipe, I think.

I have used a variation on this recipe for years; it's how my Mother did the stuffing or dressing for the turkey. (Stuffing if it's cooked in the turkey, Dressing if it's cooked outside the turkey. Your mileage may vary, but that's how we define it.) The Epicurious recipe found here is a great place to start... or just use it as is!

So here we are, into the new year and I got such a hankering for stuffing I was beginning to even consider roasting another damn turkey. Plus the girls love it. And I have all these bits of fig and walnut bread left over from our Champagne and foie gras orgy on Christmas Day. What to do?

I know! I'll concoct some kind of yummyness by using 6-8 large eggs, some milk and chicken stock, rather creating a kind of custard to pour over the bits of bread, oven-roasted marrons or chestnuts; smoky lardons of bacon and fresh sausage meat (both meats pre-cooked first before assembly); quartered whole mushrooms sautéed in demi-sel butter with chopped celery, chopped Roscoff rose onions instead of leeks, a sprig of minced fresh sage and a couple peeled and chopped Granny Smith apples; a couple handfuls of dried cranberries and some chopped toasted pecans; fold this all together and dump into a large buttered glass baking dish and call it Savoury Bread Pudding! It actually worked really well, and the only thing I'd do differently would be to skip the milk and just use the chicken stock and eggs... but then it isn't really bread pudding. Also, it's rather nice after it's cold, just sliced and eaten as a snack, as I'm doing now.

Try that stuffing recipe from Epicurious, you'll never consider Paxo ever again... or Mrs. Cubbinson's.

Bonne Année! Bonne Santé!

2010-01-01T08:00:00.002+01:00

The title of this post is the merry and happy greeting I will repeat to everyone I encounter over the next few weeks, until I've seen everyone at least once. 'Happy New Year and Good Health.'
I like it. It's fast, kind and allows you to greet people you might not ordinarily speak to.

2009 was a time of enormous upheaval here, for me, health-wise. However, I am now off my arrêt de travail which means I can go back to work. I've finished with the casts, the wheelchair, the crutches, the five-times-a week sessions of physiothérapie. The only thing that ISN'T completely gone is the pain, but, thats a 'time will tell thing'.

So, basically, early June, I had to travel to Paris to go pick up my daughter's UK passport so she could go to Martinique on a school trip (seriously, a School Trip to the Caribbean. I was lucky to visit the Los Angeles Science or Art Museum or go to the La Brea Tar Pit when *I* was 11 and on a school trip.) As I was heading out the door, so I could catch the 6 am bus to get to the station to get a TGV to Paris, I tripped in the darkened corridor and fell OVER my foot. And felt something go 'snap' and then my foot went all floppy... and, oh heavens... pain. I knew immediately I did something, and not just a sprain, however, I HAD to get to the bus, I HAD to get that passport. So steeling myself with a 'You can do this, it's for your daughter, you dumb twit, just WALK!' I limped to the bathroom, grabbed some codeine, some Zaldiar, some paracetamol and some Nurophen, got to the door, got my backpack, my laptop, a bottle of water, locked the door then staggered to the bus stop in the early morning chill.

Once I was ON the bus, which I'd had to shout to stop it pulling away, I got to investigate my foot. Oh boy, it was swollen, the pain was exquisite and feeling around, carefully, I figured that I hadn't (likely) broken anything.

Ha.

I love Paris, I really do, it's one of my favourite spots on Earth and to be there twice in one week was just too fun for words. I went to the British Consulate on the Wednesday to get the passport application started and I was now returning on the Friday to (hopefully) pick up the completed passport. The school trip was then leaving on the Monday so, no, I did NOT have a lot of leeway here.

Now, I know some of you are thinking, why did you leave it so late? I'd pose the exact same question myself were I you, Gentle Reader, so as not to go into great personal details let's just say, 'Money, ex-husband who is... erm... well, difficult and having moved, twice, since the last time I'd used it.' Also, when I had gotten notice from the Mairie that my daughter wasn't eligible for an Identity Card, and then had finally found the passport, I'd been assured that she could travel on the expired passport since, 'Pas de souci, she is, in effect, just going to a different Département, Madame, similar to going from here to Pitou-Charentes. Ne vous inquiétez pas.'

See that 'Ne vous inquiétez pas' should have set the Spidey Senses tingling, I've lived here long enough to know better that if someone tells you it's not a problem and not to worry, you should.

On the Monday I got notice that, well in fact, no, there was a slight problem, quite grave, and serious, actually as my daughter WOULD now need a valid passport.

Right.

Arranged with work to have the Wednesday and Friday off, spent a glorious day on the Wednesday going to the Consulate so I was the first person in the queue, tearing around finding an internet place where I could receive and print out an e-mail verifying the airplane ticket, having a super three-course menu as I waited for the Consulate to open up again after lunch, then getting all the paperwork turned in and made my way back via the maze that is the Paris Métro to the TGV and then home.

Well, what a difference a day makes (or even, if I was picky, 48 hours.)

As we quickly wound our way North by bus, I carefully calculated the amount of ibuprofen, paracetamol, codeine and Zaldiar I could take without doing liver damage, and chased the lot down with the bottle of water. Maybe I should see a médicin in Paris? I bought two cans of Red Bull once I got to the TGV station when it dawned on me. Codeine = sleep. I could feel it beginning already, that dozey, cotton-wooly feeling I get from being on this particular opiate where the world just goes warm and soft and rather nice, in a slurred speech sort of way. Excellent, I'll sleep straight through to Montparnasse... and I did. (Once I got my laptop secreted into my backpack and tucked to the side of me then handed over my ticket, I was out like an incandescent light bulb. In fact the ticket-person had to wake me once we'd arrived.)

Red Bull (2), a Chocolat Chaud à la Ancienne and a perfect, pure butter croissant with confiture: Breakfast of Champions.

The Métro, so easy two days prior, was a nightmare; all... those... stairs. My right foot was useless and though I was feeling very little pain, it was indeed slow torture.

However, got there, got the passport (yay!), had lunch, got back to the TGV and finally home again.

(The Parisian restaurant shots are for another story.)

An additional month working with my foot like this, a doctor, an échographie, a month of kinétherapie, another fall, another doctor, another échographie, then a specialist finds me in his office saying to me in Mid-August: 'Madame, you see how when I move your calf muscle, your foot does not move? But on your undamaged leg, the muscle causes the foot to move quite happily. This is because your muscle is no longer attached to your foot. The Achilles tendon has completely snapped. I suggest we do surgery. Malheureusement, I will have to open up the back of your leg to search for the tendon (shudder) but we should have a good result.'

Gulp... ok, as soon as possible, I suppose, yes.

'Fine, be back here tomorrow morning à jeun, nothing to eat after midnight, we do the surgery first thing.'

And we did, and now here we are.

Happy new year!

I have no idea either, honestly.

2009-07-23T14:56:00.003+02:00

I don't know why, but, I found this hysterically funny.
While browsing Epicurious.com for a certain Chinese Chicken Salad recipe I had modified yonks ago, I happened to look over at the 'Recent Searches' tab, and found this:

Recent Searches

At least Number 5 was honest about their search criteria...

(And if I find the recipe, which always garners rave reviews when I show up with it at Pot-Lucks, I'll post it, because it's soooo good! )

Kitty: MIA... but now FOUND!

2009-07-17T11:49:00.007+02:00

So hopefully some of you are asking yourselves, "Where the hell has she been?" Well, my Gentle and Lovely Readers, I must apologise for my absence and beg forgiveness. Life has been just incredibly too much to even consider allowing myself the pleasure of communication. However, now that I find myself finally feeling fairly calm and in control of what is going on around me, I shall make up for lost time.

So, what's with the alcofrolic display, you may ask? Has this something to do with the BAR? It has! After much to-ing and fro-ing and falderall, the bar finally opened mid-June.

It HAD to open before the 30th June or I lost my Class IV Liquor Licence, not an inexpensive thing, either. And once lost, can never be regained since no new Class IVs can be created here in France, you have to find one in another town or Département, clear moving it with both the originating Mairie and the Mairie where it will be used, buy the blasted thing, do a 'Mutation' and transfer, wait 15 days to two months for the transfer to take place, schlep down to the Douanes, do a three-day course with the Union des Métiers et des Industries de l'Hôtellerie (and pay 847€ for the privilege) which consisted of spending three D A Y S sitting in a room in Saint-Brieuc reading and understanding French Law, prevention of Public drunkenness, not selling to Minors, how to spot drunkenness, what bumpf you have to have up on display, yada-yada, and an exam on same. (Deep breath.) THEN... finally, you get your licence.

Plus the local Gendermes come and pay you a call and check everything.

Oh, and the Pompiers. ("Look! TWO fire extinguishers! AND... they are signed! AND... wait for it! ...Alors! They are in date!" Hot damn they were impressed.)

And if anyone thinks I wanted to go through THAT lark again... just... non.

So, it's open, the clientèle is about 98% French, which is rather what we hoped for since we most certainly did NOT want another dire 'Ex-Pat Joint' frequented only by 'Les Anglais', there are enough of those around in Central Brittany, and I personally see no reason to add to that number. The bar is, frankly, still quite rough around the edges, however, as work continues on the room next door with the wood-burning stove in the fireplace and the polished wood floors, where the bar will eventually be located, I think it will be very cosy and attractive when finished.
At the moment, it is serving it's purpose: saved the licence and provides an evenings only place to go here in Ploug.

Being misunderstood

2009-05-03T13:23:00.008+02:00

You know, for someone who prides herself on her communication skills, this sure happens an awful lot. BOTH misunderstanding AND being misunderstood.

Take for instance this (true) episode that happened to me just down the road at the (now defunct) café. I ordered a 'petite cream' but was given a 'petit noir', or espresso. So I asked the owner, in my most polite French, as he passed by the table, "Seriez-vous capable de me mettre un peu de lait, s'il vous plaît?" (Would you please bring me a bit of milk?) He turned, looked at me, seemed to focus on my face, then replied in a slurring English Southend accent, "I'm glad you like the meal," then turned and stumbled off, obviously three sheets to any prevailing wind.

Now, that may not be quite so funny unless you speak French or can imagine me sitting there, slack-jawed, trying to figure out how requesting milk could be so misconstrued into a compliment over his cooking. (A dry, oven-baked chicken breast, covered with Bisto gravy... no, seriously. I think not. Oh wait, that might have been the other time I ate there and had the recycled shoe leather masquerading as meat-on-a-wooden-stick. Yeah, I know, I'm cruel but I'm fair.)

Then of course that leads me to thinking about the differences between American English and English English. Oh boy. Let me tell you another true story that happened to me when I was very young and first in London.

First we have to imagine London in the early 1980's. Got that? Need help? OK, Let's focus on when this occurred: 1982. Chuck and Di had gotten married the year before and she was just about to pop out the heir, little Willy. The country was just getting over the race riots in Brixton, Toxteth and other parts of the UK. Pope John Paul II visits UK, first Papal visit since 1531 (so I guess the RCs are 'over' that whole Henry VIII thing, finally.) Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical Cats was playing to sold-out audiences at the New London Theatre. The Social Democratic Party SDP had been launched and was seen as some new hope for the country (bless.) Argentina invades the Falkland Islands and we have that whole kerfuffle marked by Private Eye magazine publishing that marvellous edition where you could play along with Battleship and Elaine Page's performance of "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina" was rudely blocked out by the Beeb. (Elaine went on to sing "Memory" as Grizabella in Cats.) Oh, and the Thames Barrier was supposedly completed but we were still having to close the submarine door on the lower bar during flood waters, or, twice a day.

Are you there yet? Oh, wait, here's something to help you get in the mood... if for nothing else, Mick Jagger in a shell suit.

So, imagine me, all of 23, week after New Years, the sales in London are in full swing and I got my pay packet in my pocket. 'Come On Eileen' or possibly 'Don't You Want Me, Baby' is playing on the radio. Anyway, I decided to snazz up an outfit I had in mind: White cotton, frothy, beaded 'Diana' blouse tucked into my high-waisted black tuxedo pants, strappy high-heeled black leather court shoes, big hair (of course) and the requisite yards of (fake) gold chains around the neck and waist. Only problem, the trousers kept slipping down, (I was a LOT thinner back then) I needed a way to keep them up, ah-ha! Bingo! Men's department at Marks and Spencers for those... uh, thingys.

Nice, fresh-faced clerk of about 19: "Good afternoon, Miss, may I be of service?"
Kitty to nice, fresh-faced clerk of about 19: "Oh! Hello! I'm looking for some leather suspenders."
Nice, fresh-faced seriously blushing clerk of about 19: "Oh! Erm, (gulp) I think you might be better served in the Lingerie Department, Miss. Right this way, please."
Kitty: Shrugs and follows, What do I know about UK Retail Merchandising?
Sweet Old Dear in Lingerie: "Yes, Malcolm? Does this lady need help?"
Nice, fresh-faced and ready to explode clerk of about 19: "I believe you might be better suited to supply what.. *ahem*"
Kitty (butting in, politely): "Good afternoon, I'm looking for leather suspenders, black leather, if possible. I'll go with white, but I'd prefer black."
Sweet Old Dear: (As she peers over her half-moon spectacles at me) "Oh my, lovey, we don't carry that sort of thing at Marks and Sparks. You'd have to go into Soho for that sort."
Kitty (completely confused) "But... you show them on your mannequins over in the bridal area."
SOD and FFC both whip their head around at the plaster men modelling wedding attire and then back to me, now they looked completely puzzled.
Kitty: "Black leather suspenders.. to attach to the inside buttons of my trousers (I already ran into the 'pants' one earlier, so knew better) to hold them up? They go over my shoulders and attach?" I was now using a complicated series of hand gestures that might have been thought of as cursing in either sign language or Braille.
Finally, the penny dropped for both for them.
"You mean BRACES!" they both cried in unison.
I stared at them and stuttered, "Braces? They go on your teeth..?"

SOD now went and fetched a pair of suspenders for me to see...
Ah..
"I see, that's what suspenders are known as in England? You must have thought... black leather and... gosh.... huh."
Uh, well.. no.
"Frightfully sorry," I stammered to the clerk, now MY turn to blush, madly.

I did manage to purchase that for which I went searching. And to his credit, nice, fresh-faced clerk waited to burst out laughing until AFTER I had paid and left the Mens Accessories area.

Now as to being constantly misunderstood, I'd like to point out I don't (usually) fault the people who misunderstand me. After all, we all come from widely diverse backgrounds and home environments. Everyone of us have our own special challenges in our day-today lives. So we bring these experiences (and oft-times "baggage") with us when we 'parley', yes? So, from time to time, especially when cultures mingle, we are bound to end up with confusion. As long as we can get to the deeper meaning, and what's behind the confusion, then we'll be all right in the end. All's Well that End's Well, eh? But it still, admittedly, bothers me. Especially when it causes grief or pain to those I hold most dear.

I guess I'll just have to think more before I speak, or type. And try a lot harder.

Thon Mayonnaise (Tuna Salad)

2009-04-27T11:52:00.005+02:00

I thought it might be an idea to post up some ideas for Afternoon Snacks or, as it is known here, "Goûter" which literally means 'taste' but in parlance means the snack children have after school. Anyway, the kids at my daughters's school, (a Bilingual French/Breton Catholic school, fabulous, honestly) were so taken with the sandwiches I sent in with the girls for mid-morning break (NO brown bags lunches here in France! Zut alors! But that can be it's own post...) that they requested the recipe to give to their Mothers to make at home. So, I typed it up, printed it out and it is now made in lots of French households around us, according to the children who have thanked me at school. How fun.

La Recette de Kitty Thon Mayonnaise

2 boite 200 ml/185gm Thon, égoutté (2 tins of tuna, drained - I use Chunk light Tuna)
1 boite 425ml/258gm Maïs Doux, égoutté (1 tin of sweetcorn, drained)
2 carottes, râpées (2 carrots, grated)
250 ml Mayonnaise (I prefer Best Foods / Hellmans)
100-200 gm Emmental, râpé (Swiss cheese, grated)
1/2 cuillère Poivre gris moulu (1/2 teaspoon Black Pepper, freshly ground)
1 cuillère Sel au Céleri (1 teaspoon Celery Salt)
1/4 cuillère Piment de Cayenne Moulu (1/4 teaspoon Ground Cayenne Pepper)
20 ml jus de citron (Lemon Juice)
Mélange. Goûter et rectifier l'assaisonnement. Pour des sandwiches, salade, tomate farci. (Mix all ingredients together. Taste and adjust seasoning, I usually add a bit of seasalt. Great for sandwiches, Tuna Salad Plates, Stuffed tomatoes OR that All-American favourite: Tuna Melt!)
Bon appétit!

Chicken Maruyama

2009-04-23T18:49:00.004+02:00

I have quite a few recipes I have developed over the years for various people, for various reasons. They range from starters through to desserts. Even a drink or two. I find it huge fun to play about in the kitchen, taking a recipe and melding with another, changing it so much it bears only passing resemblance to the original. Or starting from scratch with an array of ingredients and building a dish based around a technique and/or a main ingredient. I tend to do this ‘cuisine-play’ when I have good friends around, then we eat the results! I like having an audience, I guess, so I hadn’t been much in the mood to do any experimenting for the last couple years or so, living toute seule… and on Atkins to boot.

That is… until lately… now I have someone around me who appreciates my culinary efforts, is ‘kindly critical’, AND knows how to match wine to a meal, so I feel much more inspired. So I have been banging out new recipes in my little postage-stamp-sized kitchen. Ah... for a big kitchen where I could really let rip...

In my dream kitchen, I will have either a four-oven Aga or a commercial Viking or Wolf range oven plus a centre island with a proper gas-fired wok burner with seating around the countertop so people can be in the kitchen with me and watch me and we can socialize, drink wine and converse while I cook. I will have a Kitchen Aid area, a marble table for pastry and cool granite countertops. I will have plenty of counter space/preparation area so my friends can pitch in and help, if they like. Plenty of seating so they can just kick back and watch if that is more appealing. I think the kitchen is the Spiritual Centre of the home and I want a big kitchen! Space for a sofa or two, space for dogs and children and lots of big windows bringing in the light. I LOVE cooking for people and talking, laughing, drinking wine or cocktails and all the while discussing things as I cook. I suppose it’s a bit showing off, maybe, but on the other hand, I like showing people how to do what I do as I enjoy sharing my knowledge. Good thing I chose the profession I did, huh? (Well, one of them at least…)

Whenever I make one particular recipe, Maruyama Chicken, I can’t help but chuckle to myself. I made up this recipe in honour of my friend Karen Maruyama when we were both students at SDSU. Kind of like Teriyaki Chicken but better, with lots of garlic and the bite of ginger and chile marinated into it. It’s served with coconut rice. I brought it over to her house for a ‘Japanese Potluck’ I had been invited to. Her aunt, uncle, and some of her cousins were visiting from Japan and this was a welcome dinner in their honour. After a hysterical evening, started by lots of toasts with little cups of sake, and then sitting around laughing and eating, her (male) cousins brought out this t-shirt they wanted to give to me, if I would model it and let them take a group picture. Karen and I looked at each other… the t-shirt was in Japanese. Since her Mom didn’t say anything, we thought, yeah, go on, it’s harmless enough, so I went in the other room and changed into this rather tight t-shirt. “What’s it say?” I asked. “It says ‘Japanese’, as in female Japanese,” one of the cousins replied. So we took lots of pictures with the cousins pointing at my t-shirt and grinning and me in the middle smiling (as you do when you have no idea what is going on.)

It was only later, when we looked at copies of the developed photos that we realised what all the smirking was about on the night. Emblazoned across my pert 36DD chest was the Japanese for Nipponese or Japanese-American street slang ‘Nip on these’. Japanese girls tend to be rather less well endowed (unless surgically enhanced) than most Americans are. (I say Americans because I include women as well as a lot of American men… I think most Japanese women would be proud to sport some of the man boobs I have witnessed on both Florida and California beaches…)
I am sure Karen’s cousins got a lot of mileage out of the photos when they got back to Yokahama…

Still, got a nice t-shirt out of it.

Chicken Maruyama

Marinade
½ cup Mirin (Japanese Sweet Cooking Wine)
1/4 cup honey
1 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup oyster sauce
¼ cup brown sugar, packed
4 tablespoon fresh ginger, grated
6 garlic cloves, pressed or minced
1 tablespoon ketchup
½ yellow onion, grated
1/2 teaspoon cayenne (or more/less to taste)
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

First make the marinade:
Combine all the ingredients in a saucepan. Heat on stove stirring until the brown sugar is dissolved and all the ingredients are thoroughly blended. Allow to come to room temperature. The marinade can be made ahead of time and held under refrigeration for three days. You get best results if you use it right away, though.

Marinade the chicken: If using the boneless breast/thighs cut up, a couple hours marinating will suffice but I leave it overnight. If using the bone-in chicken, I leave it for 24 hours marinating in the fridge, turning it several times. This can be facilitated by bunging the whole thing in either a heavy duty freezer bag and turning it over every few hours or into a large Tupperware container and just giving it a good shake when you remember.

Drain the chicken, reserving the marinade, and either bake in a pre-heated 375°F/180°C oven on a rack over a foil-lined grill pan/baking sheet or on the BBQ, over coals that are grey-ashed over (so medium heat.) You could also use the marinated meat to do kebabs, threading the meat on wire skewers or bamboo sticks. (Soak the bamboo sticks in water for a few hours so they don’t burn from the heat of the BBQ.) The chicken interspaced with red, yellow and green bell peppers, fresh or canned pineapple chunks and ripe cherry tomatoes would be a colourful and flavourful mix.

While the chicken is cooking, reduce down the marinade to about half of the volume or less. It will go very dark, thick and syrupy. At this point you can strain it for a glossy glaze or leave it as is for a chunkier sauce. Pass this around so people can help themselves to more.

Serve with coconut rice and Yum salad, if desired.
(I'll post the rice and salad recipes one of these days.)

Fairly Foolproof Chicken Curry

2009-04-22T14:21:00.007+02:00

Right, today I am posting my easy-peasy chicken curry I make, on a regular basis, for my family… and often times for the tea room. It is quick, doesn’t use a LOAD of ingredients but has a nice, complex flavour, all the same. This is a combo of the chicken curry from Anita Pal's Bengali Cookery Page found here http://easyweb.easynet.co.uk/~palwal/homepage.html and the chicken curry from Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall found here http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/database/chickencurry_82424.shtml and me messing around... a bit.
Serves 4

Vegetable oil or Ghee
2 large brown Onions, chopped
6 cloves Garlic, squished through a garlic press
1-4 Serrano chile peppers, sliced thinly (to reduce the heat, remove seeds and ribs from inside the chile. Be CAREFUL not to touch your eyes or any place else ‘delicate’ until AFTER you wash your hands, thoroughly. Or use rubber gloves, better still. You have been warned. How much you use will determine the heat, obviously.)
3 teaspoons Ground Cumin
½ teaspoon Cayenne Pepper
1 teaspoon Turmeric
4 boneless skinless chicken breasts, cubed into bite-size pieces (or 8 boneless, skinless chicken thighs, or an entire chicken, jointed into 8 pieces)
3-4 whole Green Cardamom (or 2 teaspoons ground)
2-3 small pieces Cinnamon (or 1 Tablespoon ground)
50-75g whole, fresh Ginger, chopped fine (If you keep your ginger in the freezer, then it’s a doddle to peel it, then to chop it finely while it's still partially frozen. Frozen ginger lasts months frozen, and a week or so fresh. I now only keep fresh ginger for when I am doing a Chinese Chicken Salad, and honestly.)
780g tin of tomatoes and juice, chopped (I buy whole ones and chop myself since it’s cheaper)
1-2 teaspoons of salt or to taste
2-3 potatoes, scrubbed well, or peeled, and cubed into bite-size pieces

Pour enough oil to just cover the base of a dry medium to large saucepan and heat until the oil is very hot but not smoking. Add the onions to the oil. Sauté until the onions begin to caramelise. Add the garlic and chiles and stir until the garlic is turning opaque but do NOT brown. Try not to inhales the fumes as it will be cough-invoking from the chiles! Remove the saucepan from the heat and leave to stand.
Place all the spices (turmeric, cumin powder and Cayenne powder) into a small cereal bowel. Add about half a cup of water and mix. Pour the spice mixture over the onions. Fry on a medium heat until most of the water evaporates but make sure that the spice mixture does not burn.
Add the chicken and stir until all the chicken is coated. Reduce to low heat.
Add the ginger, tomatoes and salt and cook for 10 - 15 minutes. Then add enough water to just cover the chicken. Add potatoes. Place a lid on the saucepan and bring to boil. Reduce to medium heat and simmer for 10 minutes (30 minutes for bone-in chicken pieces) or until the potatoes and chicken are both tender.
Meanwhile, grind the whole cardamoms and cinnamon pieces together in a spice grinder (or use powdered spices.) Add the cardamom / cinnamon powder 10 minutes before the chicken is served. Serve with Basmati rice.

Moong Dahl

2009-04-21T19:04:00.000+02:00

This is a recipe that Ruby gave me. It is very, very more-ish. It’s like a cross between a soup and a stew and is vegetarian. I have only altered it slightly to take advantage that the split Moong dhal is sold in 500g packages. This alteration uses half a 500g bag.

250g moong dhal (washed well in a fine sieve until no more colour comes off)
1 teaspoon salt
2 onions, chopped
1 ½ litres water
60 ml oil
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon black mustard seeds
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 teaspoon fresh root ginger, very finely chopped
180ml chopped tomatoes (I use tinned)
2 teaspoons turmeric
2 teaspoons garam masala
2 teaspoons chilli powder (I use ground cayenne)

Place washed dhal, salt, onions and water in a large saucepan and bring to the boil. Lower heat and simmer for 30 minutes, stirring every 5 minutes or so to prevent sticking.

Meanwhile, as the dhal cooks, heat the oil in a frying pan. Add the cumin, mustard seeds and garlic. Cook, stirring constantly for two minutes or until the garlic turns opaque. Add the tomatoes, turmeric, garam masala and chilli powder/cayenne. Cook for an additional two minutes or so. Add to the moong dhal when it is finished simmering and stir in well. Allow to cook for an additional five minutes.

The Best Living Will... ever! (From Maxine)

2009-04-15T11:01:00.005+02:00

I, your mother / friend, being of sound mind and body, do not wish to be kept alive indefinitely by artificial means.

Under no circumstances should my fate be put in the hands of pinhead politicians who couldn't pass ninth grade biology if their lives depended on it, or lawyers/doctors interested in simply running up the bills.

If a reasonable amount of time passes and I fail to ask for at least one of the following:

Glass of wine
Cup of coffee
Margarita
Sex
Martini
Cold Beer
Chocolate
Chicken fried steak
Cream gravy
Sex
Mexican food
Chocolate
French fries
Chocolate
Pizza
Sex
Ice cream
Cup of coffee
Chocolate
Chocolate
Sex
Chocolate

It should be presumed that I won't ever get better. When such a determination is reached, I hereby instruct my appointed person and attending physicians to pull the plug, reel in the tubes, let the 'fat lady sing,' and call it a day!

In the meantime: Have a Drink
IT'S 5 O'CLOCK SOMEWHERE!

Tuesday's morning market in Mûr-de-Bretagne

2009-04-14T11:08:00.005+02:00

It's a tiny affair, the Tuesday market. Since it is raining, only the butcher

and the fishmonger

arrived to set up, no sign of the green grocer or the Couscous lady (stop snickering!)

I just took this picture, so you can see, despite the on and off drizzle, the loyal housewives and househusbands are out in force to get their fresh fish and meats.

Easter Monday

2009-04-13T01:51:00.002+02:00

Today is a busy day for me. I still have the Cornish Pasties to make, the gluten-free stuff, it's 2 am and I'm knackered after today; I worked my tush off at work.

Well heh, that's life.

But I could sooooo just stay in bed tomorrow instead of being perky at work. Bah, thank goodness there is espresso there, I'll need it, I doubt I'll get to sleep tonight.

Happy Easter!

2009-04-12T10:34:00.000+02:00

Artichokes are in season, you know

2009-04-12T05:57:00.002+02:00

I was at the wholesalers in St Brieuc on Friday to pick up provisions for both the Tea room and the food I am making for AIKB for Monday's Easter Fair. There in the fruit and veg section were crates of our local Breton globe artichokes, which I just adore.

This is a picture I took at the Pontivy market, the mobile phone camera compression doesn't do the startling purple against the vibrant green any justice. I must go back with my digital camera and try again. But, don't you just love these artichoke cut flowers?

Now, usually, I will just buy a nice plump artichoke, cut off the stem so it sits upright, wash it really well and leave the water in the leaves to aid in the steaming, wrap it in microwave cling-film, set it in a microwave safe bowl to catch the water run off and nuke it for 6-8 minutes or so. You have to let it sit after you take it out for two minutes, still wrapped in the plastic wrap to finish the cooking. It's done when one of the bottom leaves pulls out easily and the flesh is tender. What could be easier for a quick snack? I am very happy eating this with some Best Foods (or Hellmann’s) mayonnaise or just some lemon mixed into softened demi-sel butter or even Beurre Blanc, if I'm feeling adventurous (and not lazy.)

However, sometimes you want something a bit more chi-chi for dinner guests; so, may I recommend this excellent recipe I use from Gourmet magazine?

Whole Stuffed Artichokes Braised in White Wine by Marie Miraglia
(With commentary and additions by Kitty)
Makes 4 first-course servings.
From Gourmet Magazine March 2002

If you have a pressure cooker (and I just bought myself one for my birthday, stainless steel, and it’s big enough to can in,) then by all means, do the artichokes in there! It takes a fraction of the time (1/5, for the pedants) and the leaves get so tender... Mmmmm. You can make the stuffing the day before and just keep it covered and chilled in the fridge. The fiddly bit is trimming and you need to do that either just before you cook them or do as I do and trim them and then place in a large pot of salted, well-acidulated water. (That’s half a handful of sea salt and the juice of a big lemon [or 4-5 Tablespoons if using squirty lemon juice] in 3-5 litres of water.) Weigh the artichokes down with a plate and a heavy can or two of something and place the lot in the fridge overnight. If I get an artichoke that is slightly past its prime, I do the same salty-lemon water thing and it plumps it right back up.

OK, stuffing the artichokes is pretty fiddly too, but, Oooh! Is it ever worth it!

For stuffing artichokes:
2 cups fine fresh bread crumbs from an Italian loaf or ‘pain’ (4 oz)
1/2 cup finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano Parmesan Cheese (1 1/2 oz)
1 1/2 tablespoons finely chopped garlic
1/4 cup finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1/4 cup minced sweet soppressata (dried Italian sausage; 1 1/4 oz)
1 teaspoon finely grated fresh lemon zest
1 teaspoon sea salt (Only ever use sea salt! How many times have I told you?)
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 cup olive oil
4 medium artichokes (8 to 9 oz each)
1 lemon, halved
4 thin slices provolone cheese

For cooking artichokes:
1 1/2 cups water
1/2 cup dry white wine
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 cup finely chopped onion
1 1/2 teaspoons finely chopped garlic
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Special equipment: a melon-ball cutter; a 6- to 8-quart pressure cooker or a wide 4- to 6-quart heavy pot with a tight-fitting lid

Make stuffing:
Preheat oven to 180°C/350°F. Spread breadcrumbs in a shallow baking pan and bake in middle of oven until pale golden, about 10 minutes. Cool crumbs completely, and then toss with parmesan, garlic, parsley, soppressata, zest, salt, and pepper. Drizzle oil over crumbs and toss to coat evenly.

Trim and stuff artichokes:
Cut off artichoke stems and discard. Cut off top 1/2 inch of one artichoke with a serrated knife, then cut about 1/2 inch off all remaining leaf tips with sturdy kitchen shears. Rub cut edges of leaves with a lemon half.
Separate leaves slightly with your thumbs and pull out purple leaves from centre and enough yellow leaves to expose fuzzy choke. Scoop out choke with melon-ball cutter, and then squeeze some lemon juice into cavity. Trim remaining artichokes in same manner.

(If the artichokes have spent the night in the fridge, turn them upside down and let them drain for five minutes or so. Then add a squeeze of lemon juice to the centre cavity.)

Spoon about 2 tablespoons stuffing into centre cavity of each artichoke and, starting with bottom leaves and spreading leaves open as much as possible without breaking, spoon a rounded 1/2 teaspoon stuffing inside each leaf. Top each artichoke with a slice of provolone.

Cook artichokes:
Put water, wine, oil, onion, garlic, salt, and pepper in pressure cooker (without insert) or pot and arrange stuffed artichokes in liquid in one layer.
Seal pressure cooker with lid and cook at high pressure, according to manufacturer's instructions, 10 minutes. Put pressure cooker in sink (do not remove lid) and run cold water over lid until pressure goes down completely.
If using a regular pot, simmer artichokes, covered, until leaves are tender, about 50 minutes.
Transfer artichokes with tongs to four soup plates and spoon cooking liquid around them.
I will happily eat this as a light lunch in summer with some chewy, slow-ferment rye or pain de campagne and demi-sel butter, a glass of Pinot Grigio and a perfectly ripe white peach for dessert.
Bon appétit!

Chicken Tebee

2009-03-25T18:39:00.001+01:00

I am bringing over my food-related posts from Kittychat and putting them here, now, so... if you have followed me over there, it will be a case of déjà vu for a bit... (Just warning you.)
Yesterday was my partner Tebee’s birthday. I really wanted to take him out to lunch at the Auberge de Guerlédan, it’s one of our favourite spots and, frankly, affordable… but… not affordable enough this month, sooooo… I thought I would dig out a recipe I created for him when he first moved in with me in Cleg, way, way, back in September 2005, and for reasons unfathomable, hadn’t made since.

“Mummy… what is that you are making?” “It’s something special for dinner, baby, you’ll like it, you had it before.” “Is it with the octopus? I like the octopus thing, with the tenti… testic… te” “Tentacles, sweetie. No, no octopus this time, anyway, that’s called Cioppino, remember?” “Do we get a starter?” “Yes, love, go get me the little salad plates”

Then bigger kitten wonders what littler kitten is getting action with in the kitchen…

“Mum, what’s for start.. OH!! Andouille! Yummy! …and de Vire! I love that kind!” (Yes, my children CAN and DO differentiate about very odd food choices, seriously. You should hear them discuss cheese…)

Little kitten wrinkles her nose. “What’s the squiggly bits?” “That’s how Vire does it, sweetie, in Guémené the intestines are pulled inside each other so it makes concentric circles and then it’s boiled, baked, smoked, baked, smoked…etc until it’s done.” “Intestines?” she still queries. “Pig guts,” her sister helpfully explains.

“Hmmm… do I LIKE pig guts, Mummy?” “Well, you used to like Andouille, but, try it… if you don’t like it, someone else will eat it.” “Do I get cherry tomatoes?” “No, but there is cucumber and red pepper.”

This seems to assure her, but I see her sneak the jar of Maille cornichons from the fridge, just in case…

So, I’ll just describe this, since there is no real written recipe. First, thickly slice some brown mushrooms, if you can find them, or white Paris mushrooms if not. Place these in a non-stick skillet with a hunk of butter (NEVER margarine, ick, you know I hate margarine, horrid stuff, all that hydrogenated fat… but I digress.) Add some squished garlic and finely chopped fresh herbs, like parsley, thyme, marjoram. Cook then until all the water boils off and you are left with just the little mushrooms happily browning in the last vestiges of the butter. Then, add half a glass of white wine to deglaze the pan and scrape up the browned bits. Take off the heat and set aside.

Then, for each person, you take a skinless, boneless chicken breast, butterfly it open and then pound it into a vague square shape. First, smear roasted garlic butter all over the breast and lightly sprinkle with finely chopped fresh herbs (same mix as above for the mushrooms.)

At the bottom edge of the pounded breast, place a thin slice of Roti du Porc or Canadian Bacon, cut in pieces to fit. On top of that, place slices of half a ball of mozzarella ( leave some to go on top, in other words, each breast uses half a ball of mozza) then roll it up so the pork and mozza are enclosed inside.

Using thin strips of smoked streaky bacon, wrap around and around the roll so it is completely secure. I use three slices per breast/roll. You don’t HAVE to secure it with toothpicks, but, if you feel better, go right ahead.

Brown in a non-stick pan over medium heat. You don’t need to add more fat, since the streaky bacon should, in theory, have enough but if it’s looking dry, add a tiny dash of olive oil. Turn carefully so all sides brown, slightly. Continue to cook and gently turn until it looks evenly browned, this should take about 10-15 minutes or so, in total, and the mozzarella inside should be beginning to try to leak out. Make sure all sides of the chicken have turned opaque white, then push the rolls together, place the remains of the sliced mozzarella on top of each, then a generous dollop of crème fraîche down each on top of the cheese, THEN cover all this with the mushrooms. Cover tightly; turn heat to low and cook until the cheese melts, about another 5-8 minutes or so. It is done when it probes at 160°F or 72°C. The heat WILL continue to rise, slightly.

Now, I probe EVERYTHING to make sure it is thoroughly cooked and you should as well. OK, yes, you might NOT have an instant-read thermometer, well, go on Amazon dot com, or dot fr, or dot co.uk and BUY one. Seriously, it helps you both NOT undercook or overcook meats. Either are bad. One “can” make you sick, one is an insult to the animal that died to give you it’s tasty flesh to eat. If you don’t have a probe, then cut the fattest roll in half and LOOK to make sure. If it isn’t, then return all to the pan, cover and cook another few minutes.

To serve, you can either slice each one into slices and arrange in a semi-circle around one edge of a (warmed) plate or just plunk the whole thing down and let each person have at it with a steak knife. Serve with (real) mashed potatoes or sautés and some steamed broccoli (or asparagus, when it’s in season.)

This dish is kitten approved, by the way.

Kitty has come to Blogger

2008-12-01T21:41:00.000+01:00

Hello!

Vast expanses of white are always hard to deal with.

I had an art teacher, once, who always insisted that we first cover our canvas with a colour, or pattern or something, anything, he was obsessive about there being never any white showing. OK, maybe he had a point, as it IS hard to just jump in when there is so much white staring at you in the face... what to write?

However, my secret is that I do not touch-type, so, I am just staring at the keyboard as I pound away, so I don't actually see the white until I stop. By that time, I have stuff to go back over and change or correct and I've forgotten I didn't really have anything to say.

But anyway...

I have been blogging over on BlogSpirit for four years now. Having found a few Blogs over here on Blogger that I enjoy, I also realised I really liked the layout and add-ons of Blogger. This interface seems a lot more functional. Therefore, I am trying out my blogs I have been posting on Kittychat over here, kinda testing the water, as it were.

Feel free to comment, if you so desire, this is basically an exercise for myself and my close friends and family, however, anyone is welcome to read what I have to say, if it interests you, great! Please do return!

On the other hand, if what I write compares in your mind to a bunch of old twaddle, and badly written twaddle, to boot, then... don't bookmark me! We all have our own taste, "chaque son goût" as we say in France. It's ok, I won't be offended!