2008: love, loss, ups and downs.

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So 2008, then. Well like any year, this one had its fair share of ups and downs here at English Towers. We started the year on a major low, with Hubby’s spectacularly festive then boss ringing him on Christmas Eve to tell him he was going to lose his job. January continued on a low note when I managed to lose a little blue greyhound I was supposed to be looking after for Jen (never did find her).

February brought a little more good news: I became Englishmum.com (can you believe that was nearly a year ago?) and got nominated in the Irish Blog Awards several times. On the downside I still didn’t find Jen’s dog (it’s okay, she forgave me). March saw me having a traumatic time with my bikini line, and us having a little trouble finding a school for our Mad Professor . April saw our youngest, the Death Wish Child, hit double figures and go off on a beano to Donegal. #1 also went on a trip, this time to France.

May was our saddest month, when C, our lovely friend and neighbour, finally lost her battle against cancer, leaving her wonderful Hubby, D and her two adorable children, Little C and Lou, absolutely heartbroken. Despite this (or perhaps as a fitting tribute), the sun shone, and Hubby finally came home from working away, but still, May was tough.

Forging on, then: June saw the beginning of our push towards self-sufficiency here at English Towers. The workmen came and made our fabulous kitchen garden, ooh and Hubby mowed me a little love token in the lawn. Bless. In July, Hubby finally got a new job (phew), we added the greenhouse, #1 got to grips with his new school rules and I celebrated two years of blogging.

August mostly passed in that school holiday blur of children, children and more children, but to add a bit of variety I nearly burnt the house down, and we travelled to Waterford for a fantastic wedding. In September, we decided to get hitched again, and Moon and Mrs M did just that. October saw me getting a job. Yup, the real name-in-print, food writing job that I’ve always wanted. In November, we took a little road trip to Toys 4 Big Boys at the RDS, and started getting ready for Chrimbo. December was, naturally, Christmas central. I could give you links to any one of my posts, but they’re all Christmassy. Take your pick.

And that leads us back to ‘bloody January again’. Last year, I rambled on a bit, but my main ‘resomalution’ was this:

If I do one thing today, it will be to tell my friends and family how fab they are, what I love about them and the qualities that I most admire. I will cherish the people I love, strive to make new friends, never be guilty of excluding anyone from my social circle, no matter how complete I think it is. I will strike up a conversation with the lady next to me in Tesco, compliment a total stranger on her gorgeous handbag and celebrate the fact that we are all, obviously, in this together.

I don’t think I’d change much of that sentiment. There are no new resolutions, but after a year of love, loss, ups and downs, I’ll be making the most of every day; remembering how darned lucky I am to have amazing friends and family (near AND far), and how lucky I am to live in this lovely house, in this beautiful country full of wonderful, friendly, big-hearted people.

Lessons learned in 2008:

1 We should all stop trying to be bloody fantastic and start being ‘good enough’. Seriously, if you can’t love yourself, how can you possibly love anyone else?

2 Curves are in. Big style.

3 No matter how low you get, your friends can make everything better.

4 That losing loved ones should make you appreciate the ones you still have even more.

Happy new year. I hope 2009 brings you peace and happiness. Oh, and thanks: whether you’re a regular, or this is your first visit. You’re appreciated. Don’t forget to pop in if you’re passing! xx

Christmas capers at English Towers

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Oh but we had fabilis Chrimbo. We ate, drank, laughed, ate a bit more, laughed a bit more and did a teeny bit of walking too. I can’t go through the whole wonderful time, but I’ll let you in on a few of my highlights:

Jen getting the biggest, wettest kiss off Bert. He lubs her. Oh, and my Le Creuset pressies. Thanks Jen!! x

Sensible Uncle I turning into Rather Giggly Uncle I after several Lycheenis. God, they were nice though.

Bert being all smug after stealing a sprout, only to discover that he doesn’t like them much after all.

My gorgeous and adorable niece, Turtle: self proclaimed keeper of the blender, queen of the smoothie (‘it’s papaya, strawberry, banana, cranberry and erm.. mango’) and self-confessed pyromaniac, poking the fire unnecessarily for maybe the four thousandth time.

Sweet, lovely Auntie L, taking on the role of chief family diplomat and smoothing over niggly Playstation disagreements with more tact than the entire staff of the United Nations put together.

Me Ma, gamely trying to sort out the crossword (after several large Pinots) where Hubby had squeezed in any word that had sounded about right, regardless of spelling: (‘erm, I think ‘yoke’ is actually Y-O-L-K’).

Sensible Uncle I bonding with an adoring Bert (‘coming out for a smoke, chap?’)

The Golden Compass, enjoyed with a bottle of Hardy’s Crest sparkling rosé. Slurp.

Kicking the ball into the stream and having to lower Turtle into the water, where she teetered precariously across a fallen tree, saved the ball, and returned to a big round of applause. All glamorously and in pink wellies.

The turkey and ham pie on Boxing Day. Yum scrum.

#1 looking completely nonplussed after opening Rachel Allen’s ‘Bake’ by mistake. I got his new flask for school and was equally nonplussed. He perked up again when we swapped. I blame Hubby’s complete disregard for gift tags.

#2 opening his longed-for rugby kit and instantly putting the entire lot on over his pyjamas. He walked around in his padded body armour, rugby gloves and new boots all day.

Even the more cynical amongst us being pretty gobsmacked by the fact that Santa left a boot print in the ash on the hearth. Oh yes he did.

My nephew, J, being absolutely delighted with his Daniel Craig autograph (he’s a big Bond fan).

Awwww. I love Christmas. How was yours?

Wishing you all a wonderful Christmas…

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So that’s me, then. I’m off to roast and stuff and scrub and wrap and polish and bake… (and that’s just the children). Talking of stuffing, there’s an Aer Lingus flight on its way, bursting to the seams with my family and I’m just going to have to suck it up and get cleaning! Even Bert had a bath today (he looks like he exploded because I blow dried him and now he’s all fluffy). Have a wonderful Christmas, wherever you are and however you’re spending it. And if you happen to pass through the wilds of Cavan on your travels, pop in to English Towers for a glass of mulled wine and a slice of very badly iced Christmas cake or two.

Here’s a video Hubby took of #2 in his school choir at their Christmas concert. Gorgeous. Remember to chill out, have fun, dress up!, enjoy your loved ones, have a few cocktails, don’t shout at the children, don’t worry about your waistline, give someone everyone you love a kiss under the mistletoe, carry a hankie, say please and thank you, keep your hand on your ha’penny, don’t bite your nails…

Oh, and please don’t drink and drive. I need you here to keep me company. Until next year, then.

Big hugs

xxxx

‘And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so?
It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags.
And he puzzled and puzzled ’till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before.
What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store? What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?’

English Mum’s trouble free surgically enhanced turkey

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Golden rule first then. Christmas day is is a happy, family day. If you’re cooking, don’t stress about it, just think of it as a big roast dinner. It’s just a roast and some veg. I mean, open any food magazine or cookbook and there’ll be a different way to cook your turkey on every one - timetables for this, that and the other and enough information to turn you several different colours of panic. I read a magazine recently where the instructions for cooking a 5kg bird were as follows:

Preheat oven to 200 degrees. Lift foil and add 200ml water. Roast for one hour. Reduce oven to 180 degrees. Add another 200ml water. Roast for one hour 45 minutes. Remove foil. Add 100ml water. Remove bacon. Put oven temp back up to 200 degrees. Roast for further 50 minutes.

Now I’m sorry, but this is waaaay too much effort. As if the humble housewife doesn’t have enough to contend with on Christmas day without fannying about with the oven temperature every ten minutes. Anyhoo, because you’re my beloved readers and I lub you, I’ve done the research for you, and here is the absolute, gospel, simple, perfect and most importantly easy way to cook your turkey. Firstly, here are the perfect cooking times according to the British Turkey information website (no, it really exists):

Turkey under 4kg: 20 minutes per kilo, plus a further 70 minutes

Turkey over 4kg: 20 minutes per kilo, plus a further 90 minutes

Remove the foil for the last 40 or so minutes to brown the top

As for prep, here are a load of helpful don’t bothers:

DON’T BOTHER messing with veg and potatoes, etc. Get them all prepared beforehand and keep them in bags in the fridge ready to plop straight into boiling water. Boil the potatoes in advance for about ten minutes, bash them about a bit, open freeze them on a tray in the freezer, then bag them up and store in the freezer. On the day, they can go straight from frozen into the hot duck fat (or whatever you’re using).

DON’T BOTHER washing the bloody thing in the sink - the hot oven will kill any germs and you’ll just succeed in covering yourself and your sink in all manner of bacteria. Just take the giblets out (use to make stock), pluck out any stray feathers and get on with it.

DON’T BOTHER stuffing it if you don’t want to - I don’t stuff the bird, partly because eating something out of a turkey’s innards puts me off a bit and partly because I think it’s better for the hot air to circulate inside it. I make the stuffing separately and cook it in a terrine in the oven once the turkey’s resting. I do surgically enhance its bosom a bit (see below). If you want to, though, by all means stuff the neck end just before cooking.

DON’T BOTHER giving yourself unnecessary work on Christmas day. Do it all on Christmas Eve (before you’ve had too many beers):

  1. Take your turkey, cut up a couple of lemons, squeeze them over the bird and then stick them into the body cavity along with a nice bunch of bay or rosemary or whatever you have and some salt and pepper, then tie the legs together. Take a load of sausagemeat from your butcher (just ask him to bag you up some of the sausagemeat he usually uses for his sausages), then separate the skin from the breast with your fingertips (you don’t have to be too careful, turkey skin is like leather), then squish the sausagemeat all over the breast under the skin in about an inch thick layer. This will keep the turkey breast nice and moist, and you get to eat it afterwards too. Result. Then just smooth the breast back down (you can take this opportunity to give it a bit of surgical breast enhancement - everyone needs a little help). You might need to secure the end with a skewer. Rub it all over with butter, sprinkle with salt and pepper and cover with streaky bacon.
  2. Weigh your bird and work out the cooking time. Write it down somewhere while you’re still sober.
  3. Cover the bird with a huge sheet of turkey foil (make a fold in it so the air can circulate), then just leave it somewhere cool until you need it. Mine’s going in a plastic box in the garage as it’s nice and cold in there, but if we have a sudden warm snap (heh, yeah right), I’ll pack some ice round it (it needs to be less than 4 degrees).

And that’s it. Seriously. On Christmas day, just slosh a bit of water in the bottom of the roasting pan, then stick the turkey on at 190/gas 5 (180 for fan ovens) and go and have a glass of champers. Take the foil off for the last half hour and then you can take it out and it’ll sit happily for up to an hour while you sort out your roasties and stuff. If you want to, you can baste it every so often, but if you forget, don’t worry as it has its little sausagemeat breast enlargement. Oh and sláinte!

Any more information you might need, like defrosting times or what have you, can be found on the British Turkey website.

Nanny Annie’s ‘Pastry Mincemeat Cakey Thing’ Muffins

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Ta da!

Every year, Hubby gets all demanding about mince pies, requiring a constant supply, especially of these little beauties which are an adaptation of his favourite childhood treat, his Ma’s Pastry Jammy Cakey Things. Obviously because these ones contain mincemeat rather than jam they had to be renamed, but still, I think it’s quite a catchy title don’t you? Now I know I’ve done these before, but I’ve twiddled the recipe (as usual) and I thought I’d do you a little festive step by step. On your marks, then:

First, for the pastry. I’m always messing with my pastry recipe, but I really think this one is the best so far, and the Mince Pie Monster agrees, so it must be okay.

200g plain flour

pinch salt

150g cold butter

2 tbsp caster sugar

About 2 tbsp cold water

So pop the pinch of salt into the flour, then cut the butter into teeny squares, and gently rub the butter into the flour until it’s breadcrumby. Stir in the sugar, then add in the cold water until it just comes together. Hubby’s Ma taught me that the best way with pastry is to keep it as dry as humanly possible. You’ll think it’s too dry, but actually when you squish it, it’ll stay together. Preheat your oven to 180/gas 4 while you remember.

Roll it out and cut out 12 circles with a pastry cutter. Gently pop the circles into the bottoms of 12 muffin cases:

Start with the pastry cases

Next blob a teaspoon or so of mincemeat into each little pastry case:

then add the mincemeat...

Leave them somewhere cool while you whip up a quick sponge mix (if you’re making lots, make it 170g/3 eggs):

115g butter

115g caster sugar

115g self raising flour

1tsp vanilla extract

2 eggs

Cream the butter and sugar until really light and fluffy, then add in the vanilla extract, then the eggs, beating after each one. Now gently fold in the flour. If the mixture’s a bit stiff (this’ll depend on the size of your eggs), add a splash or two of milk. So now blob a spoonful of your cake mix on top of each mince pie:

...then the sponge mixture

Mix a teaspoon of sugar with half a teaspoon of cinnamon and sprinkle a little pinch on each cake, for added festiveness, and to fill your house with the gorgeous seasonal scent of cinnamon. Then just whack them in the oven for about 20 to 25 minutes and you’ll be delighted to discover a light muffin with a pastry base and a little mincemeat surprise in the middle.

Nice one, Nanny.

The Friday photo: guilty much?

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Someone, sulking

D next door was away last weekend and I looked after his aged kitty cat. This is my most hated neighbourly favour (kitty litter… bleurgh). He was very grateful, though, and gave me a lovely 1lb box of Cadbury’s Roses. We opened them last night and had a couple. My favourite is the hazelnut whirl, by the way. Today, then, Hubby and I popped out to do the last of our Christmas shopping. We left them up on the bookshelf. The second shelf up on the bookshelf (it is a floor to ceiling bookshelf and only has three shelves). When we were gone, someone took it upon themselves to climb up onto the sofa, teeter upon the arm of the sofa and steal said box of chocolates. That someone then took them to his bed where he proceeded to devour them, wrappers and all.

When we got home and this theft was discovered (someone‘s bed being covered in ripped Cadbury’s Roses box and small bits of chocolate kind of gave it away), someone was busted. There was a bit of bad language and aforementioned someone got ignored by every member of the house all evening (this is much, much worse than shouting) and got only dry food for dinner (much, much worse than being ignored and being shouted at). Someone then took to the sofa where he proceeded to sulk for the rest of the day.

That’s what happens when you eat my hazelnut whirls. Zero tolerance. Be afraid.

Rockin’ Robin

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Robin

Here’s my Robin. As you can see, my photography hasn’t improved, but I wanted to show you just how incredibly fat he is. He gets all our bacon scraps (well, he did, before Irish bacon became rarer than hens’ teeth), stale bread, cheese, you name it. We’ve all completely fallen in love with him. He appears first think in the morning when Bert and I take our misty, sparkly morning walk, and yesterday even followed me into the garage.

I might have to cut down his snacks, though. I’m worried he might actually explode. And that wouldn’t be very festive.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Kitschmas

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Merry Kitschmas

So being a bit of an Ebay-addicted household, lovely Ciaran the postie is well used to being mugged at the door of English Towers by eager parcel recipients. Friday was no exception, then, when my copy of Merry Kitschmas, The Ultimate Holiday Handbook by Michael D Conway finally arrived. I’ve been looking for it for ages after glimpsing it on the shelf behind someone on some tv programme or other (it might even have been a Nigella programme - I can’t remember now).

Kitschmas

This treasure trove of the cheap and tacky is exactly what Christmas should be about. I mean, how did people survive Christmas before Michael Conway taught them how to make a Frosty the Chocoholic Snowman cocktail (above left) or a Santa’s Little Helper (above right). The one in the middle, in case you’re interested, is a Chocolate Candy Cane (1 part grenadine, one part peppermint vodka and one part Godiva White Chocolate Liqueur - garnished with a chocolate-dipped candy cane).

And for your festive food, how about a Weener Tree? It’s perfect for your Kitschmas cocktail party. Or why not decorate the table with an enormous styrofoam snowman (completely covered in white mini marshmallows) and on Christmas night, hang the Manipulative Parent’s Reversible Stocking on the mantelpiece: on one side it says ‘nice’ and on the other it says ‘naughty’. Threaten to hang it ‘naughty’ side out unless they do everything you say this Christmas.

Weener tree

And let’s face it: any recipe that starts with ’3 x 3oz boxes sparkling white grape-flavoured gelatin’ gets my vote. So come on, spray that fake aerosol snow on your windows, crank up the wattage on the flashing Rudolph on your front lawn and be lavish with the tinsel. Celebrate your inner trailer trash. What? It’s Christmas.

The Friday photo: cranberry and pistachio biscotti

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Biscotti 2

Righty ho, then. By now, your Limoncello should be festering maturing nicely in a dark cupboard somewhere, ready to render several of your relatives semi-conscious on Christmas day. Here’s a recipe for a classic accompaniment: a twice-baked crispy, crunchy biscuit stuffed full of fruit and nuts to dunk in your Limoncello (or your Espresso) in an ostentatiously Italian manner. This one came from my Ma’s friend and colleague, Robyn, to whom I’m eternally grateful, and probably owe a big apology for tinkering with her nice recipe:

 

500g plain flour

500g caster sugar

5 eggs

1 tbs baking powder

500g dried fruit and nuts (I used a hideously expensive pack of cranberries, pistachios, golden sultanas and macademia nuts from Tesco, but whatever you like)

 

So mix together all the dry ingredients. Beat the eggs in a separate bowl, then pour into the other ingredients, stirring until it starts to come together into a soft dough. You might not need all the egg so don’t bung it all in at once. Knead the dough a bit until it’s smooth (well, it’s lumpy because of the fruit and nuts, but you know what I mean), adding a bit more flour if necessary, then form it into four big fat sausages. Place your sausages onto a couple of baking trays which you’ve lined with greaseproof paper and sprinkled with flour. Bake the sausages at gas mark 5/190 degrees for 20-30 minutes, then allow them to cool (I only cooked two - the others are in the freezer for Christmas):

 

Biscotti 1

 

Now cut your biscotti into thin slices(they’re too bloody hard to bite if they’re too thick) at an angle, and arrange them back on a baking tray, cut side up, to dry out completely in a very low oven (gas 1/2, about 120/130 degrees ) for about 1 hour 30 minutes to 2 hours (keep an eye on them - if they start to get too brown, take them out). Allow them to cool. Obviously having been baked for this long, they are very hard and crunchy, so really need to be dunked in order to enjoy them properly and not crack your teeth.

They’ll keep for ages in an airtight container - ready to accompany your Christmas Limoncello shenanigans.

Counting my blessings

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So I spoke to me Me Ma yesterday. I’m sure she won’t mind me telling you that she’s had a bit of a rough time recently. She’s just retired, too, and that’s a big life change when you’ve worked at the same place donkey’s years; your colleagues become your friends, and suddenly not seeing them every day is a pretty big deal. ‘Still’, she said, ‘when I get a bit down, I remind myself to count my blessings: I have my health and strength, and there are plenty of people worse off than me’.

Too right, said I. We had a chat with the fellas about Christmas: you don’t want to terrify the little sods, but we tried to explain how the credit crunch affected everyone, even Santa, and that maybe Christmas would be a little smaller this year. Still, they’re going to have a house filled with fun and laughter for Christmas, stuffed with Uncles, Auntie L, their cousins and their Grandma, which will definitely make up for it. I told me Ma about Lou and Little C. They came to dinner on Sunday evening as D was out with Hubby. When I offered her sprouts, Lou said ‘erm, can I just have one?’ (I’m sure she hates them, but didn’t want to be rude). After dinner, the boys went off to play Xbox or PS3 or whatever, and Lou and I sat and watched MTV and talked about phones (she wants a pink one for Christmas) and shopping and stuff. She told me that they’d got all their Christmas decorations out, and I was struck by how hard it must be for them: unpacking everything that their Mum had packed away last year. Mr and Mrs Lovely are fantastic and do so much for D and the kids, but blimey it can’t be easy. Don’t get me wrong: they’re kids and they’re not perfect, but they’re always upbeat and they’re absolutely no trouble to look after. Their Mum would be so proud of them.

So like my Ma, I’m counting my blessings today. My kitchen is warm and fuggy with the delicious smell of the Christmas cake that is cooking in the oven, I’m filling the freezer in anticipation of my family arriving and I’ve just made a fire, which will be crackling away nicely by the time #1 gets home (#2 is in bed with a cold - don’t worry, he’s happily watching Monty Python’s Holy Grail on his PSP).

And next time I hear someone moaning, I shall wish that like the Ghost of Christmas Present, I could transport them to the window of the house next door, where two little ones are preparing for their first Christmas without their Mum.

Christmas Pudding: step by step. Make a wish!

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Xmas pud

Right, so now it’s 1st December and my self imposed ban on the C-word is hereby lifted. Woohoo! So puddings, then. Officially, one should make one’s Christmas Pudding on stir-up Sunday. I think it’s supposed to be the last Sunday before Advent (this year it was 23rd November), but if you’re a total heathen, like moi, and you don’t really give a sod, you just need to make your puds about a month before you eat them to give them a chance to mature. The trouble with testing Christmas Pud recipes is obviously that the ingredients are rather expensive, and you can’t keep fiddling with the recipe without actually bankrupting yourself, but you know me, I can’t leave these things alone so I’ve twiddled, fiddled and basically made Hubby a bit cross with my excessive dried fruit buying (sorry darling). And finally, I can say I think this one is just right. As you know, a recipe is a guide, not a commandment, so if there’s something you don’t like, add less or substitute something else (for example, Nigella uses sherry for all the liquid, whereas I like mine a little less alcoholic so I use tea). Here goes, then:

500g dried fruit (a mixture of raisins, sultanas, de-stoned ready to eat prunes, cranberries - whatever - as long they’re small and wrinkly, chuck ‘em in)

1 tbsp Maraschino cherries, halved (optional, but it’s nice to see a little glistening bit of red when you cut it open)

1 lemon

100ml black tea (I used Earl Grey)

100ml Morgan’s Spiced Rum (or whatever booze you like), plus extra for the cook

1 cinnamon stick, snapped in half

100g self raising flour

100g fresh white breadcrumbs

150g veggie suet

150g dark muscovado sugar

25g almonds or pistachio nuts, chopped

1/2 tsp ground nutmeg

1/2 tsp ground mixed spice

3 eggs, beaten

1 tbsp honey

1 tbsp black treacle

1 Bramley apple, grated

First, then, weigh out the fruit, then have a good look through it and remove any stray stems. If you’re using prunes, make sure they’re de-stoned and snipped into little pieces. Finely grate the lemon zest (as usual, don’t push too hard - you want to avoid the bitter pith), then juice it as well. Add the zest and juice to the fruit then brew up the tea (one tea bag is fine for that amount of water) and pour it over the fruit, along with the rum and the cherries. Add the cinnamon stick and stir it all up. Leave the whole shooting match to steep (make sure it’s not a metal bowl) overnight, stirring occasionally if you remember.

The next day, then, (stay with me here) weigh out all the dry ingredients and combine them in a huge bowl. The muscovado sugar can be a bit lumpy so you might need to sieve it to break up any lumps.

Take the steeped fruit and remove the cinnamon stick pieces. Add the eggs, honey, treacle and grated apple. Stir well, then you can add all that into the dry ingredients. Give it a really good stir (get everyone to take a turn to stir and make a wish). Now butter one of those big, lidded plastic basins (3 pint/1.7 litre) and bung in your mixture. Put on the lid, then cover it in foil. If your basin doesn’t have a lid you’ll need to use buttered greaseproof paper, then foil, then tie it tightly with string (or you can tie it in a muslin, or use one of those special moulds…blah blah, I’m not your mother, do what you like).

To steam it, you can use a steamer if you’re posh, but I haven’t got one so I just used a huge saucepan and balanced the basin inside it on a circular metal pastry cutter so it wasn’t sitting on the bottom of the pan. Add boiling water about halfway up the basin and put the lid on the saucepan. Steam for 5 hours, making sure you go back every so often to top up the boiling water.

And that’s it, you’re done. Let it cool then stash it away for Christmas day when it’ll need to steam for about another 2.5 to 3 hours (don’t worry if it gets a bit longer, it won’t ruin it).

BTW: If you want to make mini puddings instead, like I did above, remember to put a teeny piece of buttered greaseproof paper in the bottom of your ramekin, otherwise you’ll never get the buggers out. Then you can just cover them with foil, put them on a deep baking tray, add boiling water to half way up the sides of the ramekins, and bake in the oven for 30 minutes on 180/gas 4.

BTW 2: Nigella advocates vodka rather than brandy to flame a pudding - apparently the flame is better and lasts longer. Just mind your eyebrows.