Why I make lunch for my son (and your new favourite bread recipe)

bread recipe 1

Let them eat bread

It’s been a while since my parenting has been brought into question by anyone other than my son. Or maybe I just haven’t cared for a while. That’s one of the best things about getting older you stop worrying what everyone thinks about your parenting. Or about you in general. And, to be honest, as your children grow up you begin to realise that it doesn’t really matter what the books or the playgroups or anyone else says – you’ve lost enough sleep and established enough love to know that it’s going to work out okay if you go with your gut, remember to feed them and show a lot of love.
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My Sepia dreams of being a food blogger

They (whoever they are) say that you can be whatever you want to be and some days I think I want to be a food blogger . It makes sense because I love food and I have a blog.

I often try my own hand at creating edible stuff and sometimes it works really well and sometimes it fails miserably. It is clear that there is more to food blogging than trying, sometimes succeeding and often failing to cook. So I decided to go a step further – I would eat gorgeous food made by other people and photograph it for my blog.

Only problem is that I am not a crash hot photographer, I know Nothing (with an intentional capital N) about editing images, exposure and lens stuff, added to which I am almost criminally lazy when it comes to doing anything with photos other than loading them on to the computer.

But that didn’t stop me from taking photos of almost everything when we went for the fanciest dinner at Sepia last night.
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It was an incredibly awesome meal marred only by the fact that I felt ridiculously guilty eating such expensive food especially when I saw a homeless man outside the restaurant.

The divide between rich and poor, the haves and have nots is way worse than my food photography could ever be.

The (real) reason I am not a “proper” food blogger

People say that social media is responsible for creating an imbalance in the lives we see portrayed on line, that people who use social media are responsible for showing the “feature reel”, only the good, glossy and perfect bits of our lives. I don’t agree with that, I see an awful lot of the gritty bits of life in my feeds, the unhappy people, the strung out parents, the heartbroken, the grief-struck, the lonely, the annoyed, the angry and the frustrated.

But sometimes I actively seek out a bit of the glossy, because who doesn’t want to get away from the gritty every once in a while? And so it was last Friday I was looking through Facebook when I saw this post on the page of the wonderful Katie 180

https://www.facebook.com/KatieOneEighty/posts/929324647124504

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My Thermomix confession

I’m almost scared to write this post. I feel like I am talking out against the cult. I worry that I’ll be ostracized like a leper from a community that prays before the Thermomix, but I’m taking the chance.

I just don’t love the Thermomix.

Of course I’ve used it. I had to after I spent $2000 on it *bows head in shame*. I was even momentarily taken in on the night I ground and dry roasted my own spices. But I can’t serve roasted spices or even curries every night of the week.

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Nutella French Toast Rolls for the soul

Little Pencil has been sick with the flu for the last week. It’s been a bit awful. He’s been “proper” sick – lying in his bed only moving to come and lie in my bed so that he can watch TV.  He hasn’t even gone downstairs to play x-Box which is more of an indicator of his illness than his 39.6 fevers.

But yesterday he started to nag me for Grand Theft Auto again so I knew he was feeling much better. Next step was to get him to eat something because seriously he’s thinner than paper after not eating much for a week (even though I made him proper Chicken Soup!). When he woke up this morning and asked for Nutella French Toast Rolls I knew recovery was complete.  I made them faster than he could change his mind and quickly put up a picture on Instagram (because they look scrumptious).  SO many people asked for the recipe I decided it was worthy of a blog post.
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I need to diet so don’t tell me not to. Especially if you’re a size 8

I spend a lot of my time online, I read a lot about body acceptance and self love, I read about diet and nutrition mainly because I am always trying to improve mine. Sadly I have yet to find a diet that advocates eating toast and nutella and drinking sweet, milky tea everyday.

The one thing that I have noticed, perhaps as a broad generalisation, is that most of the people who are spouting the “love your self, you are worthy, drop the diet and learn to love your inner beauty” message are of a certain body type themselves. And, to be honest, I am quite sick and tired of size 8 women telling me how I should feel about my size 12 body.
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I’ve joined a cult

There is no easy way to say this, I have joined a cult.

It started late last year when a friend asked me if I would come and see a demonstration at her house, food was involved. Because I really like food I thought it would be remiss not to go, I really like my friend as well and food and her company while watching a demonstration seemed like a perfect thing to do.

And so I was lured into the cult of the Thermomix.

It’s pretty bad. And I’ve only just joined.

I didn’t have very long with it yesterday due to the fact that I had a life before I joined the cult, but in the two spare hours that I had, I made polenta, using vegetable stock made in the Thermomix, then I made a cake and a batch of icing. We were out for dinner so I had to be dragged away from creating several other culinary masterpieces but the whole night I sat itching to leave to go home and make butter. I knew it would only take about 7 minutes in the genius machine.

Today I found myself buying wheat that I can turn into flour and yeast so that I can make home-made bread to eat with the butter that I eventually managed to whip up.
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I used to love cooking but this is different – this isn’t cooking, it’s playing and it’s creating and it’s living in the future where you don’t actually have to think but you can if you want to.  It’s all kinds of perfect and wondrous and, even if I wanted to, I can’t actually think of anything negative to say because they’ve inserted that Thermomix chip into my head and I am part of the cult.

I’m afraid I am going to turn into one of those people who tell you how their lives have been transformed, one of those people who tell you how much time and money they’ve saved. But I’m not really afraid because I am one of them already.  Please continue to read my blog, I’ll try to temper my cultish adoration.

I’ll miss my previous life, but if you have a Thermomix tell me what I should be making.

And watch this – it’s laugh out loud hysterical. Seriously. If the first few lines offend you stay with it because once they start talking about us cult members Thermomix owners, it’s worth it.

Finding my calm… at the bottom of a bowl of soup

Yesterday was one of those days. Not a good one. My mind was racing, I could not regain my calm. I was snappy. Ready to fight, unable to breathe with ease. And so I cooked.  I cooked to calm myself down because when I am  in the kitchen with loud music and cooking to distract me I feel like the order of methodology and measurements and instructions gives me the boundaries I need and the music washes away the thoughts that try to interfere with the boundaries.

Such an intense introduction to a recipe, you probably didn’t need – but the recipe I am going to share will make you glad you sat through it.  It’s deeply comforting food and although no one but me is eating soup at this time of the year you can always keep the recipe for when “normal” people eat soup (ie winter)

Tomato and Pumpkin Soup

You need:

1kg Roma tomatoes

400grams butternut

1 leek

1/3 cup olive oil

5 cloves garlic

2 tbs sugar

1 cup stock

salt and pepper

1 tbs ginger

Method:
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Place tomatoes, butternut, leek, olive oil, garlic and sugar in a roasting pan

raw vegetables

Place everything in a baking tray

 

Bake in the oven at 180 degrees for 40 minutes

cooked veg

Put it into a pot

Once they are all soft and squishy put the vegetables into a pot and add the ginger and stock. Then blend it all together with salt and pepper.

Pour it into a bowl (or cup) and eat

soup

Ta da

And that’s it – my comforting soup recipe which I made at the same time as I made a zillion other things last night because I was looking for lots of calming.

What do you do when you need to find your calm?

 

 

My week and the huge taste of deliciousness

It’s been a long and busy week for me, a week that I’ve spent so much time just in awe of people who work full time, blog, stay in touch on social media and have time to still brush their teeth.

I’ve been doing some extra work for Kidspot this week and it’s been bloody fantastic. Possibly one of the highlights was going into the office and meeting some of the team face-to-face. As much as I’ve loved working on my own this past year, I’m prepared and thrilled to say that it’s really uplifting to be part of such a cohesive, committed and generally awesome bunch of women.
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I just can’t tell you how much I hated this woman telling me what to do

dieting. you are wdoing it wrongIt’s safe to say that I am not that good at dealing with authority. I don’t like people telling me what to do, think or believe.

Gosh I must have been a joy to educate. But, luckily for my teachers, and sadly for anyone that tries to converse with me now, I think that I have got worse as I have gotten older.

So why I would pay someone to tell me what to eat defies me. But that is just what I did , yesterday I went to see a dietician, not to lose weight (although that would be a MAJORLY welcome side-effect) but to help me with my bowel which is almost as irritable as my personality.
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