i'm back

Goodness gracious, why is it that sometimes a holiday leaves one in need of, well, a holiday? We walked in the front door at midnight last night, and I left before 6am this morning for work, and walked back in the door at 8pm. Am exhaustipated. Bags remain unpacked, bills are screaming to be paid and our lawn mowing man has apparently run off to join the circus or somesuch leaving us in need of a machete or two to hack our way through our front lawn. 

Will refresh this poor, abandoned blog tomorrow. Till then, kisses!

au revoir

We're off on a wee holiday down south to visit my mum, step-dad and baby bro. I'm not sure what their internet connection access is like so chances are I'll be having a break for a week. In the meantime, check out this vintage air hostess shot - how much better would flying be if we had uniforms like that to look forward to!

sweet dreams

I'm ever-so-sleepy. Interstate visitors and their barking puppy have just left and my head is desperate to hit my pillow. I think I'll need to lull myself to sleep with sugar-coated dreams of the parisian kind... I've just been drooling over the Ladurée website and wishing I'd indulged more when I was there. How would one delicately bite into this beauty?

a few of my favourite things

 Manolo Blahnik, a Laduree palette and Marie Antoinette. Le sigh...

carry on

How's this for a challenge - a one-week holiday - with only carry-on luggage? It's going to give the term capsule wardrobe a whole new meaning. I'll be rolling and stuffing with abandon, but the worst thing is... NO SHOPPING!

could do better...

While I generally feel I do most things to the best of my ability there are a few things I'm absolutely crap at - and am working on.

1. I make a shocking cup of tea. I love drinking the stuff, but my impatience always impels me to remove the tea bag or pour the pot before the tea's drawn properly. Or if I force myself to walk away I'll forget and come back to a tepid, over-stewed mess.

2. I am really, really, really bad at confrontation. I could be served a cold meal, garnished with dead flies, and I'd be lucky to put in more than an inspid, "Excuse me, I'm terribly sorry, but..." Yep, do me wrong and chances are you'll never know it, cos I won't be mentioning it. I'm really working on this one though. Truly. I'm trying to get in early, lower my voice an octave, and not being apologetic for taking offence when half the time that was probably what was meant. Starting now, I'm speaking up. Truly.

fishy business

I've just been for a trip to my local fishmongers which was quite amazing. The last time I visited was well over a year ago, and I wasn't too inspired by what was on display, but today I was spoiled for choice. I've bought some plump white snapper fillets and scallops for the bbq - but I was sorely tempted by the garfish on display - they're such kooky looking fish. Shall I do a fresh fennel and chilli salad to go on the side? Sounds about right doesn't it? I'm simply going to pop the seasoned seafood on the bbq grill - maybe with a little lime zest and black pepper dressing the scallops. I can feel myself just getting smarter thinking about all this brain food!

yum on a stick

I had a friend to dinner last night, and while I had the second lot of summer puddings chilling in the fridge, I just couldn't work out what to do for a main. Then I had a thought - spanish chicken kebabs. I chopped up some skinless chicken breasts and marinated them in the juice and zest of half a huge lemon, a cup of white wine (sauvignon blanc), masses of chopped garlic and black pepper. I popped it in the fridge for an hour and then threaded it onto sticks in between big chunks of chorizo. I browned each side, then put the lid down to let them steam and they were delish. I also sauteed up some chunks of red capsicum and slices of orange sweet potato and served it all with a platter of salad leaves, roasted beetroot, goat cheese feta and hazelnuts.

They were scrummy. I'm going to cook them again.

cascades

I'm besotted with my wisteria. Here's another view of it from the top of the stairs, glancing over your left shoulder. Pretty huh!

summer love

Okay, I have officially found my new summer sweet. The strawberry summer pud was a big hit last night (and the lamb? Melted in mouths and got rave reviews) Here's how I did it.

I popped a couple of punnets of strawberries and one punnet of raspberries in a small saucepan, along with a good shake of golden caster sugar (probably 1/4 cup) then I added a dash of vanilla extract as I had no more vanilla beans in the cupboard. I let it simmer for a few minutes, just until it formed a syrup, then I lined the bottom of four ramekins with a round of sliced, white bread. I poured in some syrup to soak into it, then divided the berries amongst the pots and then placed another round of bread over the top and poured the syrup over it. 

Now, because I didn't have an enormous amount of syrup, it didn't completely cover the tops, but that made it a really pretty marbled pink and white effect which I liked to pretend was intentional. I also drizzed it with my Violette syrup - a rose syrup would also work well, or a liqueur... I didn't line or grease the ramekins (because I forgot) but it didn't matter as they popped out readily. I also loosely placed cling film over the top and popped tins on the top to weigh them town. 

I turned them out onto pretty plates bedazzled with pink roses and threw a dob of vanilla bean yoghurt over the top (King Island) which balanced them out beautifully. Oh, and because I was feeling posh, I also decorated the plates with a strawberry I sliced almost down to the stem in about five places, then fanned out. Very restaurant-like. 

I'll be making these again. Probably tonight when my friend Milissa comes to dinner... they'll go down beautifully with her favourite pink champagne!

d.i.y.

Typical. I fall in love with something (a butterflied, marinated lamb leg to be precise) and decide to invite friends around to share it and... yep, not in the store. Dayum. So I've just gone to the butcher, asked them to butterfly a leg, and I've made my own marinade. About a cup of olive oil, the juice and zest of one whopper of a lemon, around a quarter cup of fresh oregano, a big head of garlic and lashings of fresh black pepper. It's in a zip lock bag and I smooshed it all around and I'll leave it for a couple of hours before smooshing and turning again. Then it's going on the bbq, lid down, for around 45 minutes, resting for 15, and then being laid on a bed of mesclun, watercress, fresh mint, roasted quarters of beetroot and some chunks of goat cheese feta. I'll dress it with a simple red wine vinegar and garlic dressing and serve it with hunks of baguette.

The summer puddings are in the fridge with tins of tuna weighing them down. I did them in individual ramekins and they look dead cute. I've yet to track down any Cassis LJ, but I did drizzle some Violette syrup over the top. I decided against mascapone, and went for a vanilla bean yoghurt from King Island in Tasmania. I'm determined to try out my ability to make quenelles tonight when I serve it. Oooh, best dash off and pop some champers and rosé in the fridge. Hopefully I'll find that Cassis and a Kir Royale will have my name on it around 5pm...

the shoe shoe song

Oscar de la Renta is the man behind these shoes. Paired with a pencil skirt and a peach chiffon blouse I'd be ready to be James Spader's secretary. I'm hankering for some sensible black shoes and I do believe that I need something like this. Of course, they need to be Mary Janes, and a peep toe is perfect for displaying a touch of coloured toenails. 

what would dita do?

There's my new motto when shopping, decorating, dressing... Whenever I'm about to ask a decision I'll think, "Now, what would Dita do?" Now that I know the answer doesn't involve intimate acts with Marilyn Manson, I'm pretty comfortable in following her lead. 

Apparently Dita always wears her favourite shoes when shopping for a new pair. If she doesn't love the pair in the store enough to swap them for the ones on her feet she says "No" and moves on. Love it or leave it ladies.

making scents

When you have a super-heightened sense of smell you want to make sure that you're surrounded by things that smell delish. My dresser is scattered with perfume - Lovely, Tom Ford, YSL, Chanel, Stella McCartney... every scent has its place in my life. The day doesn't seem right if I don't spritz myself with perfume before walking out the door. 

It's the same with my home. I adore my lavender and vanilla room sprays - and I have a scented spiced pear candle that nearly sends me into a state of bliss when the wick is lit. Same deal with food. I love a meal that I can smell before I taste - bland and boring won't cut it.

Of course it's hardly surprising that I clean my home with essential oils sprinkled in warm water and white vinegar. Even if a chemical cleaner promises a pretty scent it's always an acrid version of something I loved - it's like cheese in a can. Why?

All the roses in my garden have a scent, and the only flowers I have in the garden that are unscented have got some pretty spectacular qualities (such as the pale green and pale pink nodding hellebores - stunningly pretty). 

I don't see the point in not surrounding yourself with things that are gorgeous and make you feel happy. Even practical can be pretty.

goody two shoes

I cannot for the life of me break a rule knowingly. It's entirely possible I'm the world's most law-abiding citizen. When crossing the road, I walk for miles to find a zebra crossing or lights. Any music I download is paid for on iTunes. Someone hands me too much change, I count it and hand it right back.

I'm also mortally offended if I see others knowingly flaunting the law. Couples who eat at a hotel's buffet breakfast - loading up on the bacon and eggs, then paying at the cashier and saying "oh, just a cold buffet for one," while the partner sneaks out on the end of another party's line.

Like now, I'm writing this at work - AT WORK. However, I'm on my lunchbreak, I thought you'd miss me, and I'm not doing anything that jepardises my job. Not like an editor I worked for who'd sit at her desk furiously typing away at freelance articles for other mags, or her first novel (rude!). See, I'm justifying my behaviour because it's for others. For you. Now, where's my gold star?

i lied

Hey, you know how the other day I said that cocktails were for delicate sipping and not guzzling? My Margarita hangover on Sunday would really like to beg to differ...

weather or not

It's obvious now that I suffer from a form of Seasonal Affective Disorder. Give me a grey old day and my mood will turn a smouldering shade of charcoal. However, on a day like today: brilliant blue skies, verdant green grass, a gardening shimmering with promise, and the perfect level of warmth... well, I'm almost exploding with good cheer. 

I've just been out watering my pool (as you do with curing concrete apparently) and realised that today is one of those, wow kind of days. Walking out the front door one's head is brushed with dozens of sweetly-scented wisteria blooms and everywhere you look the eye is assaulted by plants in ruddy good health. Obviously it's time for my next application of fertiliser - but it's stinky chicken manure's turn, and I've got guests coming for dinner on Thursday night. Guess I'll have to apply, water madly, and hope their noses are too dazzled by the wisteria and murraya blossoms to note the distinctly barnyard aroma...

easy entertaining

Having friends over for a meal is one of my greatest joys. I love thinking of the menu, cooking it up, then relaxing with a glass over wine over giggles and good food. In winter, it's easy - slow cooking's the way to go. But in summer, lighter meals are called for. So I'm thrilled about my latest find. It's Cleavers Organic Lamb and my new love is the Butterflied leg marinated in lemon and oregano. Yummo. We had it for dinner the other night and it was delish. 

When friends come around I'm going to cook it on the bbq then lightly slice it on the diagonal after it's rested. I'll serve it with a platter of salad and some crusty bread - with a bottle of rosé. For the kids I'll make mini burgers on teeny buns with little rissoles, lambs lettuce, tomato sauce and cheese. Perfect.

For nibbles to be served with champagne, I'll saute some slices of chorizo, roast and spice some chickpeas and marinate some olives. Because the children of my friends have exotic tastes, the kids also get olives and chorizo, plus some brie and crackers...

For sweets, I've got a hankering for summer pudding made with strawberries, brioche and served with vanilla-spiced mascapone. I might even top it with a little lemon zest (but don't tell my hubby, he thinks I'm a little obsessed with lemon at the moment...)

cocktail cravings

I have a deep, and almost unnatural love for cocktails. They're glamorous and often dangerous - and can't be knocked back quickly. I've realised how deep my affection runs when I thought about the two songs that most often cause me to break out a tune. Some people like to doodle, I like to sing, and when I like the sing, the songs I like to sing are: Don't You Want Me by Human League and Copacabana by Mr Manilow... Note the theme here? 

Opening like of Don't You Want Me, "She was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar" and for Copacabana "Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl". Now it's pretty hard to imagine that someone with yellow feathers in her hair didn't knock back the odd Manhattan or five - in my mind she does. Other songs may come and go, but these two, with their imagery of mixed drinks of the elegant kind, will forever hold a place in my heart - and shower stall...

That said I'm off to a cocktail party on the weekend. I mayn't have yellow feathers to wear in my hair, but I do have pretty nails in Kiss Me Coral that'll entwine nicely around the stem of a glass. Cheers dears...

purple rein

My wisteria is completely in bloom at the moment and I'm besotted with it. When combined with the lavender hedges, the Indigo spires, and the pale pink roses my front garden is looking picture perfect...