totally stuffed

Last night I roasted a rather delish chicken. I washed it, dried it, then stuffed it with this:

2 slices wholegrain bread, grated

6 slices prosciutto, diced

1 egg

a generous sprinkling of dried mixed herbs

salt and pepper

Then I rubbed olive oil all over the chicken, trussed the legs, sprinkled salt over it, then placed a few slices of butter on top, rubbing into the skin. The chicken then went onto a baking rack, in a tray, into which I poured two cups of moscato (white wine). 

I baked it at 180 degrees for an hour, then tented it with foil and baked it for a further 30 mins till it was cooked through. Finally, I took it out and rested it for 15 minutes. The skin was crispy and golden, the flesh was oohhhh so moist, and the stuffing was mighty fine considering my limited food options on Boxing Day. We ate it with a simple salad and washed it down with bubbles (you know, cos it's Christmas).

bubbles

Festivities just aren't complete without bubbles - preferably French ones. Which is why I'm rather chuffed that a case of this little beauty currently resides in my pantry. 

While I adore Pommery, Moet and Tattinger, my bank account does not. However, I can justify spending $12 on Veuve Amiot - a refreshing sparkling wine that hails from the delightful Loire region. If you ever stumble upon it I can recommend it. It's light and doesn't have that acrid taste that cheaper sparklings can offer. It's also taken over from Grandin as my other bargain French bubble.

Actually, I may need to pop a bottle in the fridge while my chicken roasts. I am meant to be detoxing, but hey, it's Christmas is it not?

flat out

While doing a bit of the odd cleaning and tidying today I got to thinking about the types of chores that I love and loathe. Some I'll do grudgingly (toilet cleaning - erk), others I try to adopt a zen state while I undertake (unloading the dishwasher, putting away clean clothes) and others I just will not do (ironing). Yep, I'm a non-ironer. 

I think I was scarred for life by a white, cotton pirate shirt I had in the 80s. See, I begged for it, and my mother agreed, but only if I'd iron it. Sure enough, the darned thing would sit at the bottom of the ironing basket, getting more crumpled and despicable with every week. Day-by-day more clothes were piled on top and it shrunk and crinkled and almost glowered with wrinkles. Every now and again I'd bring it out, think about ironing it, and shudder before placing it at the bottom. Of course, sometimes I'd just have to wear it with my white knickerbockers and gold belt and shoes combo (I repeat, it was the 80s) so I'd have to dig it out, spray it with the water bottle and spend half an hour cursing as I ironed out one crease, to replace it with another.

Now, I don't iron. I hang out my washing with care, shaking out all the wrinkles and pulling things flat. Then I carefully fold it when I bring it in, and hang anything that can be hung so any remaining wrinkles fall out. 

It works, we look relatively neat and tidy. My husband's work shirts look fine - not pristine, but fine. I hang them all on hangers and all the wrinkles seem to fall out as they dry.

All this time I'm not spending on ironing, or angsting over the growing pile, means I have time to do other stuff - like sleep, or read, or cook. My brow doesn't furrow every time I think about the ironing - because it just doesn't exist, so I'm also saving on botox - bonus!

festive leftovers

Ouch. I'm still very over-satiated from the Christmas Food Festival. The last few days have been a blur of way too much food, swallowed down with plenty of wine. Breakfast this morning was a very light slice of toast with restorative vegemite and a couple of big glasses of cold water. Lunch will be a carved leg ham salad, and for dinner, I have a lovely free-range chook ready to roast and serve with more leaves and other salad greens.

I've just been musing about what to do with the Christmas pudding my mother-in-law lovingly makes for each of her children's families. They're perfect, but unfortunately my hubby has an aversion to dried fruits, so a dried-fruit-studded pudding is not his cup of tea. I'm not keen on nibbling away at it on my own over the next few weeks, lest my waistline take on an even-greater pudding shape. So here's my idea. We're going to friends for dinner in two days time and I thought I'd create a trifle based around the pud. Slices of pudding will be alternated with poached, seasonal fruits, and a vanilla yoghurt 'custard'. Surely that'll use it all it, the sweetness will be tempered with the yogurt and all will be well.

Now, I'm off for a swim - hopefully I'll float and not sink!

seasons shoe greetings

Hope you all have a lovely, lovely Christmas. And I really hope that Santa leaves something like these little beauties under the tree for you...

late night shopping

Well, my visit to the local indie stores yesterday was a smashing failure. Nothing for teen boy, and zilch for teen girl. I could have bought something, if I was prepared to pay $70+ for a t-shirt, which I am so not. So instead, boy's getting a stack of cash in his christmas stocking (his favourite gift according to his ma) and girl's getting a make-up bag packed with age-appropriate essentials (a range of nail shades, mascara, eye liner and a few shadows).

But last night, my local shopping centre was open till midnight, so after an early dinner, I bid the family farewell and headed off to... bliss. At 7pm I drove straight into the perfect park, and wandered around a busy, but sparsely populated Westfield. I bought all hubby's pressies, make-up for teen girl, and a few birthday pressies for my gal. Plus, I found a retro DVD - Santa Claus is Coming To Town, a fave from my youth, that Annabella dived on this morning. By 9pm I was home, wrapping pressies and a few hours later in bed feeling very well satisfied after watching Nigella's Christmas to wind down.

So today's Christmas Eve. I'm sitting here with a shower cap atop my head, dye hopefully seeping in and colouring all that grey on my head, food in the fridge ready to make teeny quiches to take to neighbour's for drinks, then to in-laws for supper (I'm doing it easy and making a couple of dozen lorraine and caramelised onion and blue cheese quiche bites - perfect with any wine or champagne option).

Now the only thing I have left to do is collect my car (which had to be left at mechanic's yesterday thanks to a hole in the muffler and a cracked tappet cover - who needs tappets anyway, let alone a darned cover!). I also need to make said quiche pastry, then quiches, pack bags, tidy house and write an article. Oh, and visit Dan Murphy's for wine and champagne - I ran out of time yesterday. 

Easy.

Have a merry christmas, happy holidays etc. I'll be back before you know it.

Lxx

serenity now

And breathe... Okay, I've designed the invites for my daughter's birthday party - and they rock. I've sent them off to hubby to have them printed in colour - all ten of them, then I'll go get them laminated, buy lanyards from cheapo shop down the road, and we'll pop them in mailboxes later tonight. Phew. One major thing ticked off the to-do list.

I must say that the one thing saving my sanity at the moment is my new oasis of zen - my ultra-tidy and very well-organised pantry. Every time I look at it it's like a little spot of tranquility in my life. 

I'm finishing off the christmas shopping this afternoon at a local surf shop and local funky clothing store. Sure, I may have to pay a little more for the teen's tees, but I won't have to fight my way into a carpark, then through snarky crowds at the local mall. That's got to be worth a few dollars doesn't it?

After all this I'm rewarding myself with a trip to Dan Murphy's where I'm buying a case of champagne and buying difficult brother-in-law some fine wine and port - surely the perfect pressie. 

ready or not

Oh so not. I haven't really given a great deal of thought to Christmas this year, aside from our fast four hour shop a month ago. But see, the thing is, I just looked at the date and realised that I'm somewhat unprepared for the big day. There's still shopping to do - for a teenage niece and nephew - the toughest pressies. There's a secret santa gift needed for a difficult-to-buy-for brother-in-law (wow, that's a lot of hyphens, even for me) and I may need to buy my husband the odd pressie or two.

I've also got to finalise my daughter's birthday invites and send them out. Plan her party - oh, and actually set a date for it that's not tentative. This is undoubtedly my most disorganised year - particularly with her party. I guess it's because I was hoping for the pool party, then had to do the quick switcheroo when I realised that the backyard wasn't likely to be ready in time. 

So today, I'm all action stations Christmas and birthday. I'll buy those last few pressies, get the invites sorted - and maybe do a little work as well. It can be done, and will, so we can all have a very, very merry Christmas.

oh my

Until today, I never really quite understood the appeal of Penelope Cruz. Probably because of the whole Tom Cruise thing. But today... goodness me...

festive loaf

For dinner last night I made a Christmassy meat loaf. It was very delish so I thought I'd best share:

Chicken and pistachio meatloaf

750g chicken mince

3 slices of bacon, diced

1/3 cup pistachios, roughly chopped

1 green onion, finely sliced

1 slice wholegrain bread, grated

1 egg

1/2 lime juice and zest

salt and pepper

chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

8 slices prosciutto

Mix all ingredients except prosciutto in a bowl - with your hands, go on. Then line a loaf tin with the prosciutto and then pile the chicken mix on top. Cover top with slices of prosciutto and place in a dish, and pour in enough water so it comes half-way up sides of the loaf tin. Cover top of meatloaf with foil and bake at 160 degrees for 45 minutes, then uncover and bake a further 15 minutes till golden.

Remove from oven, allow to rest, then remove from tin and slice. I served this with a sorrel, hazelnut and sliced green apple salad and it was very yummy indeed.

wise guys

My gal had one of her best gals over for a sleepover last night, so we took them out to check out the Christmas lights. First of all we went to Estabar, a coffee and gelato cafe opposite Newcastle Beach where we all indulged. Matt had espresso and chocolate gelato, Hollie had lemon sorbet and a chocolate cherry number, Annabella decided on chocolate and hazelnut, while I savoured a blood orange sorbet. Yummy!

After this we popped a Christmas CD in the player and drove around to look at lights. We finished off at the house above which is stunning in its elegant simplicity. All the curtains of the house are open, with gorgeous little vignettes apparent everywhere you look. These wise men were in the front yard, next to the sleigh that was set up for the children to sit in and have their photo taken.

The couple often come out to wish the children a Merry Christmas and you can just see the joy bouncing off them as they spy the beaming faces of the littlies. That's what Christmas is all about.

pantry raid

Spring cleaning is a task that really satisfies and one aspect I find immeasurably pleasurable is cleaning out the pantry. Going through the shelves one-by-one, taking out all the items and checking use-by dates before wiping over and setting aside, is an almost meditative task. However, what I really don't understand is how I can clean out the pantry at least annually and yet there's always one wildly out of date item. Nothing from the 70s mind you, but a few years out of date...

I also love wiping down the shelves, including the upper and lower sides, with a mix of warm water and essential oils (lime oil today) then allowing them to dry and repacking in a much more orderly fashion.

Today was the first time I haven't had to clean out the pantry as part of a blitz on pantry moths. I've had years of fighting these little blighters, but now I place items such as flour, rice, popping corn etc straight in the freezer once I buy them. The flour comes out after a fortnight, when I know any eggs have been killed off, but I tend to keep the rice and popping corn in the freezer as the grains still remain separate and ready to cook and they take up a little space in my near-empty freezer (I need some food in there to keep the vodka and limoncello company!)

I've only done the left hand side of my walk-in-pantry today. The right-hand-side, with its cake-making ingredients, spices and crackers, will be tackled tomorrow. Baby steps.

it's just not christmas

I'm a huge fan of signifiers. I need a sign to know something exists, and for me, the Christmas sign is not a tree, or a Santa photo, it's driving around checking out the streets with Christmas lights. I love those families that sling lights and decorations over their homes for our viewing pleasure. 

We had our first drive last night, and tonight we're doing the drive and walk. We'll trek over to a neighbouring suburb, park our car at the top of our favourite cul de sac and wander down ooohing and aaahhhing over the santas, the reindeers, the wise men...

Yep, it's finally beginning to feel a lot like Christmas.

best scents

Today, after cleaning off my desk, I soaked a cotton ball in lavender oil and placed it on the window sill in the sunshine. The scent is still wafting my way even though the sun's said goodnight.

action stations

Tell you what, it makes sense just to get in and get things done. Half an hour ago my desk was a disaster, and now? It's clear, it smells of lavender (yummy) and all the paper is in the recyling! Often it's just far to easy to think everything's too hard, but biting off a task in a small chunk (ie my desk rather than my entire study!) means I can achieve something and feel proud of it.

Yes, I will have to put on my blinkers and ignore the rest of my study - but I can do that now the desk is looking so good. Later on today I'll work on the bookshelf to my right, and maybe after that, the chair behind me that's covered in, well, stuff. But right now I'll breathe in the lavender, layer my hands with Cath Kidston Rose & Carnation handcream and work with a smile on my face.

paper chase

When it comes to keeping clutter down the one thing standing in front of my way, and blocking me from a more minimalist existence, is paper. My desk has three piles with paid bills (I just need to transfer all the info, including payment receipt numbers, into a word file), backyard 'stuff' (no idea what it is, just that my husband will need it) and work "stuff" (press releases, the odd printout...)

Today, my aim is to cut through all this paper. I'm grabbing a huge box and loading it all in to take to the recyling bin. By 11am (it's now 8.53am) my desk will be a zen, calm, working zone. Ready, set... GO!

give me the boot

The last pair of boots I had were bought in around 1985 and I used to wear them regularly to the Friday midnight screening of Rocky Horror - in my full Magenta regalia. I haven't bought another pair because my calves and boots generally do not mix well.

But, should I decide to buy a boot, these little Lacroix sweeties would just about do it. Can't you picture them with a full skirt? The bow detailing at the back just makes me die. Imagine pairing them with a full black skirt that had a little hot pink netting peeping underneath.

Goodness.

starting over

I had my very last day in the office yesterday and as of today am 100 per cent freelance. It's a blissful fresh start, and one I'm very, very excited about. Firstly, I won't have to wake at the ungodly hour of 5.45am to catch a train. A stinky train that's always too cold, no matter what the season, and is often filled with unsavory and potentially scary people. Secondly, I won't have to break up my week with a two day stint away from home. That'll be nice, and hopefully I'll be more organised and will have lovely meals to prepare every night, and bountiful fresh harvest in my fridge to whip up delish salads or soups for lunch. 

But.

I'll miss staying with my dear friends one night a week. That was one of the high points of my week. We laughed, we conversed, we shared the odd bottle of wine... I'll miss that.

I'll also miss the gals at work. In every other job there's always been some type of festering thorn in my side, a reason I'm happy to escape, but on this job, I met true friends. Really amazing and interesting people who've enriched my life. Lunchtimes were always the perfect chance to catch up and chat - and I feel so blessed that I met such wonderful people. The laughter we shared will keep resonating, even though I'm no longer there to shout out over the cubicles.

Creative people always tend to be a little out there - sometimes they're out there in a different direction to you - but every now and again, you find this incredible common ground that forges a bond so deep, you know that a few hundred kilometres isn't going to break it.

I'm looking forward to M & N coming up for the weekend, I'll be opening my home to them the way they opened theirs to me. And the girls at work will all be invited up one weekend for the world's biggest girly sleepover. Change is never a bad thing, just an opportunity to do something in a different way.

attention please

There are some things I prefer to remain in blissful ignorance about. If I can't see it, it doesn't exist - you know, that kind of thing. Which is why I'm very, very peeved with my dentist. See, when I went along a few months ago to have enamel bonding on two of my teeth that were not-so-cosmetically-appealing thanks to a stint of antibiotics as a wee babe, my dentist said "You know, we could fix that chipped front tooth of yours with this". Pardon? What chipped front tooth? 

Ohhhhhh, the chipped front tooth that now leaps out at me every single time I brush my teeth, and yet had hitherto never seen before in my life. That one. 

a sense of urgency

Do you have anything you're utterly compelled to do no matter what? I have an almost obsessive compulsive need to fondle attractive fabric - in stores, on people... I don't even have to like the garment, or the cloth, but if I think it's going to have some special tactile qualities it's between my fingers before I can say "hands off buster". Yes, it's ironic that I won't allow my child to touch anything in a store, but at least I can pretend I'm interested in the outfit if a pesky salesperson casts objecting glances in my direction.

I'm also compelled to deglaze pans. I'd just finished frying off onions, red capsicum, chorizo, garlic and chicken breast chunks in my cast iron pot for the fritatta I'm making for the picnic (easy, yet tasty option) when I couldn't bear to leave all that golden deliciousness stuck to the bottom. Of course, I had no white wine or chicken stock handy, so I had to throw in a swish of red cooking wine. A few seconds later all that gooey goodness was encased in a ruby glow, which I threw over top of my fillings, before popping the egg (with a splash of milk, salt and pepper) mixture over top. A grating of some super vintage cheddar and it's in the oven at 180 degrees for around 20 minutes or until set and golden.

To serve, I'll chop it into squares and serve it with a very garlic-ridden aioli and a green salad. I also have a crunchy baguette to tear up to round out the plate. Then we'll be serenaded with carols by the children at school while we toast in the festive season with friends and some sparkles. How good is Christmas?