Sun, sea, air. Yes that's what I want for my vacation. I want to spend time near a beach that is not crowded with people, is glassy and cool and refreshing to swim in. I want to spend time painting. I want peace, quiet and relaxation. I am officially on holidays and you guessed it not once in the past three days have I done anything that I want to do. I suppose that is because it is the week before christmas and good old santa is ready to shimmy down the chimney and grant me my christmas wish. (And I am not telling what it is otherwise it won't come true).
Last minute shopping and all the things that come with christmas cheer. This year it's my turn with the kids. Yes we share, Noongars are good at sharing. So to add a bit of christmas cheer I have decided to cook. Now the last time I cooked anything christmassy my brothers spent the whole day giving me a hard time about the 'Rock Cake' I cooked and laughing there heads off. But you know the recipe said it was a fruit cake so I have no idea what they were on about. Yes it was little bit hard, and dry, not sure why it turned out that way because I followed the recipe.
I swear cooking is not my thing. But I plan to give it a go and I have a new mantra. It goes like this:
'do not burn the bum out of mums pots, do not burn the bum out of mums pots'.
I swear cooking is not my thing. But I plan to give it a go and I have a new mantra. It goes like this:
'do not burn the bum out of mums pots, do not burn the bum out of mums pots'.
See if I tell myself that enough times I reckon the pots will survive.
So out come the recipes and I am scouring them for inspiration. My academic brain is reading all the relative material and analysing the prep time, cooking time and hopefully not burning time. I silently pray, 'please oven work for me' because I don't want to scrape the charcoal off the food into the sink, again. Not this year. This year I am relaxed, I am prepped and I am ready to cook. So back to the recipes. Im choosing my dinner list and working out my ingredients and shopping list. Now you might think this is easy but let me tell you women like me should have a chef. You know the type I mean, distracted, get bored so have to go do something else then forget that I have something in the oven until the smoke alarm starts shouting furiously from the ceiling screaming 'warning she's cooking again, warning, warning, get the fire extinguisher'. Man the next bloke I meet better know how to cook because I swear me and cooking just don't seem to have an open and transparent communication channel.
Anyway the recipes look beautiful and I'm thinking yep, I can do that. And don't you just love the way the pictures make it look so simple? Now my creative brain is choosing recipes by the way they look in the pictures and not by the healthy or not so healthy ingredients in the recipe, so it's at about this time that the creative and the analytical start having a discussion about what to cook for christmas dinner, taking into account I need the least prep time and cooking time due to my inability to focus when in the kitchen whilst my mantra is on replay at the back of my brain scrolling through like a movie screen.
So out come the recipes and I am scouring them for inspiration. My academic brain is reading all the relative material and analysing the prep time, cooking time and hopefully not burning time. I silently pray, 'please oven work for me' because I don't want to scrape the charcoal off the food into the sink, again. Not this year. This year I am relaxed, I am prepped and I am ready to cook. So back to the recipes. Im choosing my dinner list and working out my ingredients and shopping list. Now you might think this is easy but let me tell you women like me should have a chef. You know the type I mean, distracted, get bored so have to go do something else then forget that I have something in the oven until the smoke alarm starts shouting furiously from the ceiling screaming 'warning she's cooking again, warning, warning, get the fire extinguisher'. Man the next bloke I meet better know how to cook because I swear me and cooking just don't seem to have an open and transparent communication channel.
Anyway the recipes look beautiful and I'm thinking yep, I can do that. And don't you just love the way the pictures make it look so simple? Now my creative brain is choosing recipes by the way they look in the pictures and not by the healthy or not so healthy ingredients in the recipe, so it's at about this time that the creative and the analytical start having a discussion about what to cook for christmas dinner, taking into account I need the least prep time and cooking time due to my inability to focus when in the kitchen whilst my mantra is on replay at the back of my brain scrolling through like a movie screen.
'do not burn the bum out of mums pots, do not burn the bum out of mums pots'.
So, what to cook? Good question. I have looked at seafood and salads, roast dinners, three course meals, and of course contemplated the old fashion aussie bar-be-que. In my confusion I phone the kids and ask the question, 'what do you think we should have for christmas dinner?'
Eldest daughter's response 'tell nana to make trifle'.
'Okay' I say, 'what else?'.
'I don't care, just make sure you ask nana to make trifle'.
Not getting anything remotely sane from the trifle nut I decided to ring her sister who is in Melbourne at the moment but will be back for christmas and ask her the same question. 'So, what do you think we should have for christmas dinner'.
Excitedly she screams down the phone 'oh, tell nana to make trifle, I want trifle'.
'Okay' I say, 'but what else?'
'I don't care just make sure nan makes trifle, I love nan's trifle'.
Hmmm, I'm thinking this isn't giving me much idea about what to cook for christmas dinner. After much consideration, I start looking in magazines for something inspirational to cook. Again I get confused because the pictures look really pretty and all but I know mine won't come out looking anything like that, sooooo I decide to phone their 17 year old brother.
'Hi son' I say 'I just wanted to ask you a question, what do you think we should have for christmas dinner'.
'ah um, nan makes a good trifle' he says quietly.
I hang up on him thinking I really need to find something other than mums trifle for christmas dinner. I start racking my brains for ideas and then it dawns on me that I haven't asked the beast yet what she thinks.
I slink into the 13 year old's room, holding my nose because things are growing in there man. It's like a petri dish. I slide over to the window and still holding my nose open it for fresh air and to keep the germs from entering my lungs just in case they're air borne. She is slouching on her bed eyeing me suspiciously and frowning. I start thinking of the book 'Where the Wild Things Are' which I read to my grand daughter that morning. I tell myself to focus. I smile sweetly looking at her searching for anything that might resemble a bad mood, the controller of her xbox is in her hand and I have interrupted precious game time. It's not looking good at this point. But I draw breath and take the plunge.
'so hun, what do you think we should have for christmas dinner?'
She puts the controller down, sits up straight and looks at me seriously.
'mum' she says. 'I think you should cook a roast dinner'
Oh I so want to hug her, but I just stand there grinning stupidly, nodding my head.
'okay, then roast dinner it is?'
She nods at me, picks up the controller of her xbox and resumes the position she was in when I first came into the room. Her eyes back on the screen of her television.
I walk out past her bed and as I gently shut the door I hear her say 'and ask nan to make trifle'.
I hang my head my hand still on the door knob. What can I say, my children are well aware of my cooking history. So I have decided it doesn't matter what I cook, nan's trifle is the only thing my kids are going to eat with relish on christmas day, and you know what, I'm okay with that because I too love mums trifle.
Not to mention 'I won't burn the bum out of mums pots'.....lol
Life is good.
