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It’s no secret that I’m a talker. I have been known like the sound of my own voice. I like attention, and to be honest would talk to a brick wall if it acknowledged me but I like to think that I know when to say certain things and when not too. I can be a little non PC at times, but only ever in a whimsical way, and only in the right crowd. However, I think there is a really solid thick line with regards to sharing your thoughts on 1. Religion, 2. Politics, and 3. new to the list, Mental Health. What’s that thing about arseholes and having them, but not needing to share them? Well, that.

You can never be too sure what’s going on in someones life. Normally there’s only a few people in that inner circle that know all the ins and out, ups and downs etc. One thing that is really hammered in is that you can never assume. I’ve learnt that lesson the hard way at work and at home, and I feel like it’s a lesson that surely everyone knows by at least the age of 30?

A few weeks ago I was part of a conversation where someone decided to share his views on the world. He shared that he thought that we’ve become a nation of pill-poppers. He suggested that the NHS should just prescribe a meditation app instead of anti-depressants and that people should just learn to cope. I sat there biting my tongue. In a world where mental health is spoken about so openly, I was in shock to see someone having such a narrow-minded view on the situation.

I guess I’m flattered that he thought I was “normal” and clearly didn’t look like someone with anxiety and depression – (whatever that looks like!) otherwise he wouldn’t be so brazen – surely?!

Interestingly this is wikipedia’s depiction of chronic anxiety. Poor woman.

I sat in amazement for a few minutes while the hole continued to be dug, and then had to fight my corner. SOMETIMES MEDITATION DOESN’T ALWAYS WORK!!! I mean, *cough*, *cough*, sometimes you can try the talking therapies, and the exercise, and the healthy diet, and the getting enough sleep, and the long hot bath, but you’re still crying because the sky box isn’t working. Sometimes the chemicals in your brain get confused, and you need some help to get the ducks back in line.

Since taking anti-depressants I’ve actually been quite reassured by how many other people take them as well, friends, and people around me, and maybe we should talk about it more openly to remove the stigma that they’re “crazy pills”.

Obviously they are just the scaffolding, they’re not a long term solution. But they’re a great comforter so that you can focus on the bigger things, and not waste time crying over the sky box.

So here’s my message to the world.

PLEASE don’t presume.

PLEASE don’t be so incredibly naive in the world we are currently living in.

PLEASE keep your opinions to yourself, you never know what’s going on behind the scenes.

And here’s me, surprisingly not looking like the photo above, just looking normal. Well, as normal as I ever will 🙂 xoxo

 

 

 

 

 

January was a long year.

Everyone always bangs on about January and how long is it, and yes, we all know January is a long month, blah blah blah. But this year January has hit me harder than ever before!

We celebrated Danny’s birthday on the 17th and it feels so long ago already. We had the best day. There’s actually nothing I love more than day drinking and eating with my best pal.

But payday was just so far away for so long and all plans for 2019 were being made all around me and bit by bit my wage was disappearing before it even hit my account.

Weddings are like buses aren’t they. A few years ago, 2015, I had 3 weddings to attend, and 2016, I had 2. The last few years, nothing. This year, boom, 3 weddings. Along with this, I also have 3 hen dos to attend. With the 3rd hen actually being for a wedding next year.

Whilst I’m obviously super excited about these events I can’t help but feel a bit sad that it means I probably won’t get a holiday with my boyfriend this year. Reasons are 2-fold: We’ve both got various weekends away for pre-wedding/wedding activities spread right across the summer. And therefore we’ve both got no money. I’m holding onto the thought of a cheeky last minute all-inclusive getaway somewhere but I’m not convinced.

I’m still fighting my depression. Some days I feel so full of life, and others I just want to curl up in a ball. I sleep deeply but I dream excessively so I wake up feeling exhausted. It’s becoming relentless!

One of the things I learnt in therapy is that anxiety is basically just a sense of not feeling yourself. Something I’m guilty of doing is putting myself out for others. Going way over where I need to go to ensure that the other person is happy and content. I always thought it was a good thing, and a great quality to have, however in exchange this can often mean that I am left uncomfortable or stressed as I’m trying too hard. Sounds ridiculous until you break it down. The summary is essentially to be more selfish.

So on that basis I’m dedicating February to self care. I’m going to make sure I eat well. I’m gonna try my best to get to the gym. I’m booked in to have my hair cut and coloured. And to have my nails done. I’ve got a new bra on it’s way, and I’ve just ordered some new make-up. I want to feel good for myself.

I’ve also been really enjoying reading to care for my mind, and I’m currently reading The Tattooist of Auschwitz. It’s a little bit dark, but I’m finding it interesting. (Any other book recommendations welcome!) I loved Dolly Alderton’s Everything I Know About Love. It made me feel normal. A reminder that nobody is perfect, we just don’t tell each other that.

The last thing i’m focusing on at the moment is de-cluttering. Following the Marie Kondo trend. Everyday I seem to find a few more things that I don’t need or that no longer “spark joy” and so I’m getting rid. At the moment “getting rid” just means putting them in the boot of my car…! So I actually need to make the effort to go to the charity shop to complete the transaction. I will have done this by the end of February.

The first weekend of March is hen do number 1, and to be honest I cannot wait. I’m excited to spend the weekend with my best friend and celebrating that she has found her forever.

Until then… xoxo

It’s good to talk.

2018 was a rollercoaster.

For some reason I decided to spend 2018 punishing myself for not being where I had pre-determined a 31 year old should be. I don’t have any children, nor do I have a ring on my finger. I don’t earn much money, and I’m still in an entry level job. I let my anxiety get the better of me on more than one occasion, which resulted in arguments and upsets. I like to be in control, but I felt like I had no control over where I was going or who I should be. I spent way too much time comparing my life to others via social media.

On paper I had a nice year. I made it to Budapest, Madrid, and Andalucia. I wrote about Budapest here. Then in the summer we went to Mad Cool Festival in Madrid. I’ve never been abroad to a music festival before, it was a far cry from a rainy Leeds Festival circa 2006. Saw loads of amazing bands – in no particular order, QOTSA, Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam, Depeche Mode, Tame Impala, NIN, Underworld, Justice, James Bay, to name a few! A vast amount of gin and Fanta lemon was consumed, all in 30 degree heat!

I started a new job in February. Marketing. An area I’d been looking to get into for a while, and working at Bupa I was able to move sideways, but only on a seconded basis, which meant no pay-rise. But it did enable me to escape the bear trap of my previous manager. It wasn’t until I moved that I realised just how difficult she was making my life. My IBS settled down, and my work life became a much simpler place. However there was a continual underlying anxiety about the secondment coming to an end and the fear of not being able to secure a permanent role in the department, and having to go backwards, and back into the bear trap.

I rejoined the gym in May – a birthday present to myself. I turned 31 and the wobbly bits just don’t go away on their own anymore. I needed to exercise more seriously.

The summer was all a bit of a blur, anxiety took over and I found it all really really stressful. Looking back I tried to cram too much in and put too much pressure on myself. We drove to London for British Summertime in Hyde Park for Interpol and The Cure. And then drove all the way up to Cumbria to surprise my Dad for his 60th birthday, and then down to Clacton-on-Sea for a long weekend. I was exhausted. I sat in my parents garden on my own with a glass of wine wondering why I was so stressed – not able to put my finger on what was causing it – I should’ve been having a nice time?! I cried over stupid things, like a belated birthday present failing to arrive, and receiving a hug.

Come late August and my gorgeous boyfriend got a promotion at work. Something he’d been working towards for the last year and a half and absolutely thoroughly deserved. All I did with the great news was punish myself some more. A Harriet-pity-parade coming right towards me, and plowing right through our relationship. Why was I not earning as much as he was? I’m 5 years older than he is, so I should be doing better than this? How is he doing this? Why is he doing this to me? Why could I not be happy for him?

The following week we went to the villa, somewhere we have been together twice before, so a nice, no-pressure break. I wasn’t in the mood for a holiday, but I assured myself a week in the sun would fix everything. It didn’t. I was an anxious wreck. It made me never want to get on a plane again, or go somewhere remote again. We got home, had no hot water, the sky box wasn’t working, and my car had a flat tyre. I cried, a lot. I took myself to the doctors and the doctor diagnosed me with depression. 2 days later my boyfriend moved out, and my heart fell out of my arse.

Depression was a diagnosis I never ever thought I would ever get. I’ve had a lot of friends deal with depression, but I’ve always ignorantly thought that I wouldn’t be affected. That whole “oh it won’t happen to me” card. At this stage given that I was already gymming it, already seeing a therapist, already walking lots, the only option was medication. I’ve always seen anti-depressants as a slippery slope, so I was nervous to take medication, but at this point it was my last resort. The chemical imbalance in my body needed correcting. By talking to quite a few friends, I begin to learn that anti-depressants seem to be almost the norm. A couple of my close friends take them, their boyfriends take them, a friend’s girlfriend takes them, a friend’s Dad takes them. Is this the world we’re living in now, that we need medication to just survive?

In hindsight my boyfriend moving out was probably a good thing. I was able to find myself again. Discover who I was and what I enjoyed doing. We worked on our relationship, I started seeing my friends again, I had my own plans, the pills were dramatically helping my mood and life started to become a better place again. I needed to teach myself the importance of doing things for me. Doing things I wanted to do, instead of permanently compromising to make others happy. Being selfish.

Fast forward to the new year, and I’ve been made permanent in my marketing job. There’s no longer that fear of heading backwards. I should’ve had more confidence in myself. My boyfriend and I are in the best place we’ve ever been. We laugh, we joke, we smile. Our home is my happy place, and my therapist signed me off.

This year we don’t have any plans. We now both have jobs that allow us to be able to take last minute holiday instead of having to request it 6 months in advance, so we’re going to live more day-to-day. It’s unusual for me to not have any holidays booked or in the pipeline but I’m looking forward to 2019. My best friend is getting married in June, followed by another close friend in August. I’m looking forward to crying happy tears.

And I’m looking forward to multiple impromptu pints with these two. The man on the left has listened to me moan all year, listened to my problems, offered advice, and amazingly still wants to hang out with me! The man in the middle is my world.

Onwards and upwards. Happy New Year. xoxo

 

 

 

Crocheting > Anxiety.

I’m one of those people who cannot sit doing nothing. I cannot sit on the sofa without playing on my phone, or eating a biscuit, or drinking a cup of tea. The moment I stop my mind starts to wander. It’s quite amazing in fact how far it can go. Within minutes I can have decided that something bad has happened to everyone I know all at the same time, which is not a great place for my mind to go.

With the risk of eating too many biscuits to keep me occupied, a couple of people suggested learning how to crochet. My mum has a degree in embroidery, so textiles is a subject I’ve always grown up with, and before I knew it my mum had supplied me with a crochet hook and a ball of yarn.

Getting the initial hang of it was tricky. You’ve got to hold a hook and a ball of wool, and then somehow wrap it round the hook in a way that makes a pretty stitch and not just a knot, all whilst retaining a good tension to make it even. No problem. 

The great thing about crocheting however is that if you make a mistake you simply unravel what you’ve done. You’re not left with loads of scrapped projects that you bodged up half way through. So you can practice, practice, practice.

I started with some basic granny squares. There are TONNES of YouTube tutorials, for different styles of granny squares. The only thing to watch out for is that american terminology is different to uk terminology. Well, the words are the same, they just mean different things in the different countries for some reason. I like Bella Coco.

I set myself a project target. My close friend of nearly 30 years was expecting her first baby. And what better gift than a baby blanket. She knew she was having a girl, so the colour theme was now nicely in place.

To start the blanket, I needed to make a chain of 144. Turns out counting to 144 is really tricky. I think I managed to count to 144 and I started working backwards then to create the first line. I got all the way back to the other side, and it didn’t quite match up at the other end, but I thought surely it would even out so I carried on.

 

 

I did another full row, and it was even further out, so there was only one option moving forwards which was to fully unravel and start again. I actually tried about 4 times, unravelling it several times, before deciding to put a marker every 12 stitches, to keep count!

Turns out once you get it set up its really easy to just keep going, and it’s the perfect addition to an evening in front of the tele.

 

I gradually added more rows and soon developed a pattern with pinks and greys. I won’t bore you with the rest of the repetitions, but I kept going until I had a good “baby-sized” blanket. All it was missing now was a border to complete the look.

 

I decided just to repeat the colours I’d used in the main blanket to form a solid edge, and I’m really happy with how it turned out.

The finished result is below, and on delivery I discovered it worked perfectly with the nursery. Now I just need all my friends to have babies so I can make more! xoxo

 

 

A tapas feast.

Since buying our own home, my kitchen is now my best friend.

Living in rented places previously I never felt like I could really be myself in the kitchen. When you share that space with another person (not your other half) you feel an obligation to just cook and be quick and tidy and move on. At least I did anyway!

This kitchen however, is mine. My boyfriend knows how to cook, and does like to be involved, but he claims “but it tastes so much better when you make it…”.

Luckily for him I love to cook.

Another perk of having our own place is being able to throw dinner parties. Something I dreamed of doing since I was old enough to be left alone in the kitchen. I can remember planning dinner parties for my mum and dad when I was just knee high to a grasshopper, locking them out of the kitchen while I made a mess, mainly, and a 3 course dinner for them.

The satisfaction of cooking a great meal and people enjoying it is something I just love.

So, on to the dinner party. Tapas. I love tapas. I love Spain. Last year I went 3 times, this year I’m going twice. I love everything about it. I love going to tapas restaurants here in Manchester. But strangely enough it’s not something I ever cook at home. I spent some time researching recipes and came up with the following menu:

• Chicken and Chorizo Stew
• Patatas Bravas
• Garlic Mushrooms
• and “something with aubergine”
• Flatbreads

I started with the chicken and chorizo stew in my slow cooker in the morning. I found the recipe on BBC Good Food. It’s quite often my first port of call for recipes, it’s really reliable. I fried off the chorizo and chicken thighs first to get a bit of colour and then just threw it all in! Recipe is here. The only thing I changed was that I used boneless chicken thighs (I hate taking meat off the bone on my plate!!) and I only put in 6 as the slow cooker was pretty full! 8 hours later, and it smelt absolutely delicious.

The Patatas Bravas was another BBC Good Food recipe. Amazingly I’ve never made this before, but it was so simple. Even greater that I could make the sauce the night before – a dinner party advantage!

The garlic mushrooms were my own creation. Simply a whole loads of mushrooms, a combination of white and chestnut mushrooms in a pan with some Frylight (not sure why I’ve only just discovered this!), garlic, and garlic salt, lid on and just simmered them down til they were soft, then chucked a load of chopped fresh parsley on top.

The “something with aubergines” turned into simply just roasted aubergine. I cut them into 2 inch strips, coated with some olive oil, oregano, salt and pepper and whacked them in the over for 30-40 mins. Perfection.

Finally, flatbreads. These are actually from a greek recipe I discovered a few months back. They are DELICIOUS. I’ve made them several times now for a few different people and the response has been unanimous. I added them to my tapas menu as I needed something for people to mop up the stew with. The recipe is on this page here. (Incidentally if you want a Greek feast over a Spanish feast I’ve previously made the Greek Chicken off the same page which was also delish.) You simply mix together flour, yeast, olive oil, warm water and warm milk until a smooth ball is formed. I obviously use my stand mixer so it’s done in minutes. You then leave to stand for an hour or so. Then divide the mixture, roll out into rough circles, and cook in a dry pan til coloured on each side. The only slightly tedious thing is that you can only do one at a time (unless of course you have multiple pans!!) and the recipe makes 8, so takes a little while, but if you do it whilst sipping Prosecco I find you barely notice the time…

A last minute addition to my menu was a butterbean mash. I needed some sort of starter, and found a recipe in my Nopi cookbook. The recipe is actually on his website here. A friend of mine kindly gave me some fresh rosemary from his garden and I served it on toasted slices of a Co-op Mediterranean Bloomer. (The Co-op have a surprisingly great selection of fresh breads!)

And there we go, a table filled and ready to go. What pleases me most about the photo below is the table. The table belonged to my Grandma, I inherited it when she passed away a couple of years ago. I love that the table is marked, and scratched, and faded, and uneven. Every blemish on this table is an enjoyed moment at my Grandma’s house. It’s a family Christmas dinner, or a birthday celebration, or just a cup of tea looking out of the window. Some people might see it as scruffy table that needs a good up cycling, but to me it’s beautiful memories.

My various tapas dishes I have accumulated from markets in Spain. There’s a gorgeous market in Frigiliana every week, and my traditional tapas dishes and my green salad bowl were all about 3 or 4 euros each!  I try to sneak a few into my luggage each time I go.

So there we have it, my tapas feast was a success. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading, and hope I’ve inspired you in some way to recreate some of the recipes, or to just take a trip to Spain to try the food! Happy eating! xoxo

 

 

 

 

31

The fact that I’ve been 30 for over a year now and have just turned 31 is slightly alarming.  The year seems to have completely flown by but on reflection, a whole lot of stuff has happened.

Sadly there’s been some lows. A close friend has been poorly, and of course my beautiful home town was the victim of a terrorist attack – the Manchester bombing. The combination of these events triggered several panic attacks, they just make you realise how precious life and health is.

Fortunately the lows have been outweighed with some highs! Lets talk holidays. My 30th year was kicked off in Barcelona, an absolutely brilliant birthday present from my very kind and generous boyfriend.

We booked a last minute trip to my parent’s Andalucian Villa in July, and then again in September accompanied with some friends.

We also then made it to Budapest in March. So definitely can’t complain with the travelling involved in my 30th year.

Other highlights include…

Buying a flat! On the 12th May 2017 the purchase of our flat completed. I’ve spent the last year putting our stamp on it, and genuinely look forward to coming home every day. Still a few things to do; one day I’ll be able to afford wardrobe doors, and you can never have too many house plants.

I got a new job! After years of working in Customer Service and then in numbers and spreadsheets, I’m finally able to put my creative background into use in the marketing department. Am I earning the salary I thought I would be on at 31 – no. But am I going in the right direction – hopefully yes. Swings and roundabouts.

Went to some great gigs, Queens of the Stone Age, Mastadon, Deftones.

Also, in my education as a Manchester United fan, I made it to Wembley for the FA Cup Semi Final. A very entertaining day out!

So to summarise, it’s been a good year all in all.

What’s strange about being over 30 is that the things your mum told you you wouldn’t care about when you’re older are so true. Things I no longer care about are as follows:

• What people think about me – if people don’t like me that’s fine, I probably don’t like them either 🙂
• Conforming – don’t get me wrong, I like to follow the fashions etc, but it will always be my own version of them. I also wonder at what age I will stop dying my hair blue, or pink, or purple, but I don’t think it will be anytime soon.
• Gossip – most gossip I hear now my response tends to be an eye roll followed by a muttering of “grow up”.
• Friendships dying out – my mum always told me friendships would grow apart, and I used to be so worried by it, but the friends you need stick around, I promise, don’t worry about the others.
• Nights out – I’m all for a few pints, but if I’m not in bed by 12 I will turn into a pumpkin.
• Fear of missing out – nope, just don’t get it anymore.

Things I do care about:

• Honesty – deceitfulness and lying is just unacceptable.
• Being happy – genuinely the overriding factor in anything, if it doesn’t make you happy don’t do it.
• Cosy nights in – netflix and chill. G&T, duvet, sofa.
• Having a handful of close, reliable friends – they’re the best.

So there we go. Cheers to being 31, and here’s to the next 12 months. xoxo

 

 

 

 

 

A City Break.

I always seem to be having a bit of a competition with myself to squeeze in more holidays in the year than I did the previous year. Last year I managed a fair amount (New York, Curacao, Barcelona, Andalusia, and then Andalusia again!) so when Ryanair cancelled my boyfriends flight for a lads holiday he had in October, and gave him £80 compensation in vouchers, I was well on the way to booking our first holiday for this year!

In 2007, I went interrailing, an amazing experience, which I urge anyone and everyone to do! 6 weeks, several trains, and 10 different European destinations. After a whistle stop tour of the various cities, there’s always been a few I’ve wanted to go back to. Budapest was one of those. Here’s a flashback to 2007. And here’s a quick delve into our first 2018 adventure.

We arrived late on Sunday evening, and got a taxi straight to our apartment, taxi cost a whopping 6900HUF, seems a phenomenal amount, but it’s actually only 20 quid, the currency is bonkers. We stayed in an apartment in Buda, which we found through booking.com. A really nice, spacious, modern flat, situated just at the bottom of Castle Hill, and a stones throw from the Chain Bridge that takes you over the Danube into Pest.

Day 1. 

Some friends were coincidentally in Budapest at the same time, so we arranged to meet up and head to the Szechenyi Spa, you know, the big famous yellow building you see on all the postcards. Interestingly it has about 5 different entrances, and they are not universal! After doing a 360° tour of the building we finally found an entrance that would accept our online booking and we went straight for the outdoor thermal baths.

We’d also booked their Thermal Beer Spa. Ultimately, it’s 45 minutes with a beer tap, some Hungarian snacks, and a hot bath. Brilliant. The bath water actually includes malt, hops and yeast; so the water mixture helps to rejuvenate your skin, reduce the appearence of acne and cellulite, and cleans your pores supposedly. It was good fun anyway!

Now that we’d had the taste of beer the obvious choice was to head here for some wine, and here for some dinner, and then onto the Ruin Pubs. If you drink the local sparkling wine (closest thing to prosecco) it will set you back around £1.50 a glass! Beers and ciders are around £2.50 a pint, so you can imagine how sore our heads were the next morning.

 

Day 2. 

Brunch. I am a brunch fan if you didn’t already know. Brunch > everything. Obviously I had researched the best place for brunch in Budapest and it told me it was Cirkusz. The reviews were spot on, and it sorted us right out.

Next, to the Great Market Hall. I remember going here all those 11 years ago, and being slightly overwhelmed by the amount of salami on offer. A really impressive building and an even more impressive amount of paprika available to buy! Naturally I bought a tin.

Onto St Stephen’s Basilica, a gorgeous building – you get neck ache in there! Goes without saying that it’s worth a visit!

I’d been dying to try one of the local delicacies – Kürtőskalács – AKA the Chimney Cake. It was huge, quite sickly, a bit tough, and quite expensive. In hindsight I probably shouldn’t have bothered. You can see the size of it in this pic!

Day 2 was finished off with an amazing meal at KonvyBar & Restaurant. A small, quaint, friendly restaurant in the Jewish Quarter of Budapest. The interior is like a library, and they base their menu off a book each month (KonvyBar is translated to Book Bar). The thought and dedication that goes into each course is amazing, and their service is everything you could want. I would happily give it 10/10 and would recommend anyone planning to visit Budapest to go there. Reasonably priced as well – £75 for the two of us to have 3 courses and wine, given the standard of the food!

 

Day 3.

The sun was shining!!! So to the top of a hill we went! Castle Hill, right behind our apartment. We lined our stomachs with Langos, a traditional Hungarian cuisine, it’s leavened dough fried in oil, basically like a big flat donut. So feeling slightly sick, we sauntered up the hill. The views were amazing.

The hill features Matthias Church, and we splashed out 3000HUF (£8.50…!) to go to the top of the tower. 194 steps up, and very narrow and steep. But 100% worth the panoramic views from the top. Fun fact: One of the bells in the tower weighs over 4 tonnes (4 tonnes!!!) so they only ring it 4 times a year!

Now the next place had been recommended to me by everyone I spoke to about Budapest. New York Cafe at Boscolo. It’s dubbed the most beautiful cafe in the world, and it is just breathtaking. It wasn’t cheap – £30 for two drinks and two cakes, but it was definitely worth the trip. Entertainment in there alternated between a pianist, and a small group of musicians, playing the violin, harp, piano and double bass, creating a fantastic atmosphere. Definite thumbs up from me, patisserie cakes to die for.

And as if we’d not had enough food for one day, we needed to have some goulash. Can’t go to Hungary and not have some goulash!! At a cool little street food place – Karavan – we spotted a bloke serving goulash in a loaf of bread. Yum. Goulash = ✔. Washed down with a quick pint in a bath tub back at Szimpla Kert, one of the amazing ruin pubs.

Day 4.

The weather turned on us on day 4, must’ve known it was home time. Fortunately we found a cute little coffee shop to sit in, really hipster little joint, hidden away in a courtyard behind a main road – Fekete Brew Bar – really nice coffee, and we chilled in there for ages without feeling any pressure to buy anything else.

As the rain was preventing us from doing any more exploring there was only one other thing to do – eat. And our final meal was a big one. Mazel Tov, part of the whole ruin pub scene in the Jewish quarter, a beautiful place, and the food was just great. It more than filled us up for the rest of the day, for our flight home.

It was a great little holiday, Budapest is a great place, as great as I remember, a lot of historic and beautiful buildings, some great restaurants, and some awesome views. View pictured below is from the Szechenyi Chain Bridge looking over to Buda.

xoxo.

40 before 40.

Whilst walking home from work the other day, vaguely talking about a mini festival that wraps itself around my birthday weekend in May – I had the realisation that in just over 2 months time I will be 31. My delightful boyfriend reminded me that this is only 9 years away from 40. How is life just disappearing from in front of me? This calls for some serious list making.

I’ve luckily managed to tick a few things off in the run up to 30, like find a man, get a mortgage, etc, but there is so much more to do.

1. Master making Macaroons.
2. Go to Download festival.
3. Holiday in the Italian countryside.
4. Survive without a credit card.
5. Get a dog.
6. Drive Route 66 in a convertible.
7. Bake the perfect Sour Dough.
8. Have a baby.
9. See Wicked the Musical.
10. Holiday in Bali.
11. Get my dream bathroom.
12. Win some money in Vegas.
13. See the Northern Lights in Iceland.
14. Get married.
15. Run a half marathon.
16. Grow an avocado.
17. Go skiing.
18. Walk up Snowden in the sunshine. (After doing it in the pouring rain it would be nice to actually see the view!)
19. Learn to crochet.
20. Spend less time worrying, and get a grip of my anxiety.
21. Have afternoon tea somewhere really posh.
22. Travel on the Orient Express.
23. Learn Yoga/Meditation.
24. Go to Disneyland!
25. Do an unassisted headstand.
26. Make use of my savings account.
27. Spend New Years in Edinburgh – Hogmanay.
28. Spend Christmas on a beach.
29. Camp in the south of France.
30. Own and actually wear matching underwear.
31. Do the Sound of Music tour in Austria – my favourite film!
32. Eat Vegan for a month.
33. Do a pottery class.
34. Be more spontaneous.
35. Eat at a Michelin Star restaurant.
36. Master using a piping bag to decorate bakes.
37. Submit an application for GBBO.
38. Get my wage to £30k+.
39. Model in a life drawing class.
40. Go ballroom dancing.

In the time it’s taken me to compile this list (a good few weeks), I’ve actually managed to start a couple of the things, so I’m well on they way! I’ll aim to blog about each one, and I’m weirdly now looking forward to my 40th to see how many I manage to complete! Better get started on the rest…

xoxo

The Great Big Baguette Off

Ok, so the title is a slight exaggeration. But this weekend, I successfully made baguettes and I’m really proud.

For Christmas all my dreams came true, and I became the proud owner of this beautiful stand mixer. If you’re feeling pangs of jealousy you can pick one up here! I’ve used it a grand total of 6 times so far this year so would say it is a well loved pressie already!

With this gift creating a theme for my Christmas pressies, I received a whole selection of baking goodies, including this – so a sudden need to attempt baguettes was apparent!

Imagine waking up to the smell of freshly baked bread and bacon sizzling under the grill? Well, that’s what my boyfriend experienced on Saturday morning.

I woke at around 9ish, and popped some ingredients into my magical mixer. I used Paul Hollywood’s recipe, what with him being the oracle of bread and all. It’s a surprisingly simple recipe; flour, dried yeast, salt and cold water. Most other breads I’ve made (mainly pizza doughs!) have oil, and warm water, and often sugar to activate the yeast so I was surprised by the lack of ingredients.

After 7 minutes of letting the mixer do it’s thing, I was left with a “glossy, elastic dough”, just like Paul said I would. Amazing! Next stop is to leave it to rise in a tupperware, and to make a brew! An hour later, what looks like a tub of ice cream is in fact my dough ready for the next stage.

The next step was slightly scary – the shaping. Paul talks quite matter of factly about rolling the baguettes into a sausage shape – but to be careful to not knock the air out of the dough. You don’t knock it back and knead it like you do with other breads, you have to be quite delicate, which is not really my forte!

I “delicately” cut the dough into three. And pretty much threw it onto the baking tray! It was so gloopy and soft that I was struggling to keep it in a specified shape. In hindsight I think I should have been slightly more generous with the flour measurement. Anyhoo, there they are on the tray, ready for baking.

Time for another cup of tea during the second prove. Hoping that said prove irons out some of the lumps and bumps currently present. However I was at this stage feeling better about them after watching a few youtube videos that said that in fact the lumps and bumps create extra crusty bits – so there is in fact nothing wrong with them! Result!

After the final prove, I sprinkled some flour over – for the professional bakers touch – and attempted to slash those trademark cuts in the top of the bread and into the oven they went. Gave myself a quick facial as I opened the oven to get them out – forgetting that you add a tray of water into the oven to produce steam. Note to self, don’t put face right next to oven door when opening.

But here we are – I hope you agree that the final result is really quite good. I made sure to do the whole crust test by breaking a baguette in half just to hear the crustiness, and check out that irregular texture Mr Hollywood is banging on about!

A fab Saturday morning treat, and to be honest not actually difficult to do, you just need time and patience!

Happy baking!

xoxo

The Simple Things.

Nothing says “adulting hard” than the realisation that the only thing you bought in the January sales is a new set of pans. But do you know what, they’ve brought me a lot of joy.

The busy Christmas season made me realise that I actually love nothing more than finishing work, walking home, putting together a meal, and then sitting on the sofa, with my boyfriend, choosing something on the Sky box that has previously recorded and tucking in. Bliss.

And quite often the simpler the meal, the greater the enjoyment. Take yesterday for example.

A really simple quick sauté of 1 rasher of bacon, 1 chicken breast, 1 spring onion and some mushrooms. Throw in some boiled pasta and green beans, and stir in a dollop of creme fraiche and you get this:

What a perfect mid week dinner. Not to mention my new pan! It’s so nice to return to normality after Christmas. Not sure how long I’ll be enjoying it for, but hey, only 59 til we go on holiday, so for now, normality will suffice.

xoxo