Steady as she goes

I’m all about the even keel at the moment.

My weight loss, over the last couple of months, has been pretty small. But, but, but. I am, as of Saturday, six pounds down from my all time high. The main thing to my mind is that I have arrested the steady increase that has characterised this last year, as erratic eating habits, one too many glasses of wine and a lack of interest in anything remotely resembling physical activity has taken its toll. So that is good. That is progress. I have accepted that until the situation with D is resolved once and for all, I won’t be too hard on myself. Maintenance is ok if it what I need to get me through these last few weeks of uncertainty with my sanity intact. It has to be mindful maintenance though. I have got back into the habit of a daily hop on the scales (which are a most pleasing shade of fuchsia pink). I know daily weighing is not for everyone but for me it is a small act of mindfulness every day. When I am not doing it, it is because I know that I won’t like what I see.

Oh, and talking of sanity, marriage counselling may now be over (the lovely Josie has nodded off into the sunset) but my own personal course of CBT sessions have now started with Earnest Ross. He nods a lot less but has a very emphatic head tilt. Also, he is the first mental health professional that I have ever met who doesn’t automatically proffer tissues when the inevitable snivelling starts. He expects you to reach for your own tissues. Perhaps he views independence and pro-activity as important parts of the therapy process.

Recipe corner: Banana and cinnamon blondies

When I returned from my jaunting at the weekend I was met by the sad sight of two dead bananas in the fruit bowl. Not just on the turn, or a bit spotty, but dead. And they’d taken half a lemon with them.

Now, we all know that the only thing a dead banana is good for is baking. Usually I turn to my go-to recipe for banana bread but I decided to go for something a little different which I’ve had bookmarked for a while.

I think I ever so slightly over cooked these, so I’ve adjusted the baking time to reflect that. Brownies and blondies are tricky animals – you want them crusty on top and gooey in the middle and these were tending towards the cakey in the outer pieces. I also have upped the cinnamon on the original recipe, but then I am a cinnamon fiend, so feel free to turn it back down. It’s subsequently occurred to me that these would be fantastic with pecans rather than hazelnuts and also that chunks of white chocolate running through might be quite tasty – although given how sweet these little beauties are already this might push them over the edge.

Oh, and also, these are seriously good as a pudding – try blasting them in the microwave for 30 seconds and then serving with half fat crème fraiche and a trickle of golden syrup or toffee sauce. Divine.

I’ve suggested cutting these into sixteen pieces, but, to be honest they are sweet enough that twenty would probably do as well – this would reduce them to 4 pro points each which is well worth it.

Ingredients

2 dead bananas, mashed
125g unsalted butter
325g light brown sugar
150g plain flour
2 scant tsp baking powder
Pinch of salt
3 tsp cinnamon
2 eggs
2 tsp vanilla extract
50g chopped hazelnuts (or any other nut you happen to fancy)

Makes 16, 5 pro points per portion

Although easy to make, these blondies to require a few different bowls. So be prepared for some washing up while they are in the oven.

Speaking of the oven, preheat to 180. And line a square baking tin – 8 by 8 should give you a decent depth.

In a saucepan, over a low heat, melt together the butter and the sugar until it is liquid gold. Set aside to cool slightly.

Sieve together the flour, baking powder, salt and cinnamon.

Lightly beat the eggs together with the vanilla essence. Pour in the cooled butter and sugar, stir, add the chopped nuts and mashed banana and stir again until well combined.

Now gently mix in your dried ingredients. You will be presented with quite a loose batter. Pour into the prepared tin.

Bake for around 20 minutes and check – the top should be golden and crusty and there should be a slight wobble to the cake which will set as it cools. It may require more time but keep an eye on it after the 20 minutes stage.

Allow to cool slightly before turning out and cutting into sixteen pieces. Serve with a cup of tea. Those bananas did not die in vain.

Messing about on the river (but only after lunch)

The sky over Leeds may be as grey as grey can be this morning, but at least, if last weekend proved to be the last of the summer proper, I'll be safe in the knowledge that I actually got out and did something in the sunshine.

Gherkin!

Friday saw me winging my way down to London to go to the open air theatre in Regent's Park to see a production of "Pride and Prejudice" which was absolutely fantastic.  The setting is utterly lovely as well though, the trees and trellises of the overpriced bar strung through with fairly lights, the fireflies zinging through the gathering dusk....oh, I came over all goosepimply.  Lovely stuff.  If you live down that way I heartily recommend it for an evening's entertainment.  One can dine there beforehand, or, you can do as we did and pop to M&S for a sandwich to enjoy on the grass outside the theatre.  That way you have more money for the overpriced bar.

On Saturday, boasting the kind of eye bags that can only be brought about by staying up drinking wine in a gay pub until four in the morning, we headed to York and Albany in Camden, with a view to nixing the hangover prior to a riverboat trip.  This is a Gordon Ramsay place that I can't say had been on my radar particularly but was very pleasant indeed.  We sat in the bar area which meant that the whole party had access to both the bar and restaurant menus - ideal if you are in a largeish group with varying tastes.  I, of course, got over excited at the sight of the a la carte and went ahead with that, but others opted for the stone baked pizzas (which looked gorgeous) and the bar burger, complete with a side of chips caused serious food envy when it arrived.

My choice of starter, after a restoratively spicy Bloody Mary, were some tasty but rather unphotogenic sweetbreads (top, right).  I was exceedingly happy that these arrived on toast (most things are improved this way) and loved the iron rich cream sauce.  Personally, if something on a menu is described as being served with broad beans and mint I would expect to a) taste mint and b) see more than three or four broad beans but hey ho. 

I followed that with a skate wing in burnt butter with capers and watercress (middle, right).  Such a simple dish but so delicious if done well, which this was, with no skimping on the butter or the punchy little capers.

Finally, it had to be done - profiteroles with elderflower cream.  Again, not the most photogenic of dishes, and  the elderflower taste was incredibly delicate and could have done with being taken up a notch so as to hold its own next to the rich chocolate.  Still, enjoyable stuff.

It was generally agreed that where York and Albany really excelled was its drink menu.  Between us we managed to sample a fair few cocktails including an amazing rhubarb and ginger mule that, as you can see from the picture, was served in a seriously cute little copper mug.  Cocktails were priced at £9.50 a pop for the most part, which is not ridiculously expensive for central London, and real care and attention was lavished on them by the bar staff.

Altogether a very enjoyable place to while away a Saturday lunchtime - and, I should add, that we took up residence on the largest bar table for a full three and a half hours with nary so much as an eyelid flicker from any of the lovely staff to indicate that they would quite like it back at some point - and then proceeded to split the bill across seven credit cards (differing amounts on each) which was met with smiles and cheeriness.  They earned their 12.5% I reckon.

Rolling, rather than walking, we arrived at Camden Lock.

Barges and bunting

The princely sum of £11.50 will get you a riverbus trip down to Little Venice and back which is an extremely pleasant way to digest a rather too big lunch.

So, as I said, this morning's grey skies are not going to get me down.  I've had a weekend of good times with good friends and there's a little boozy food baby to prove it.  Detox starts here... 

Recipe corner: Sea bass with Parmesan risotto and cherry tomatoes

Sometimes, when we’re dining out, D and I like to play a guessing game whereby we try and predict what the other will order. Yes, I know what you’re thinking – you’re thinking how much fun it would be to have us as dining companions and you’d be right. Barrel of laughs, that’s us. But it’s a long standing tradition now.

The thing is, the game has revealed me to be distressingly predictable when it comes to certain ingredients. If a given item appears on the menu that D knows I am 99% likely to choose it. I make it too easy. And I am not particularly motivated to fight those inclinations.

Sea bass, for example. Or just plain bass as I believe we should call it now. It is, quite simply, one of my absolute favourite things. If it pops up on a menu D has the game won because I just can’t resist. It seems odd, therefore, that I don’t cook with it more – particularly since it is so low in points as well! A decent sized fillet is just 3 pro points, not much more than 100 calories.

I tend to associate sea bass with Mediterranean type flavours; for a fairly delicate fish it goes surprisingly well with a range of robust ingredients. Equally, it can hold its own in the face of spice, and I have had it served in with an Indian curry style sauce that worked very well indeed. This weekend though, I went very simple to allow all the lovely, natural flavour to sing.

Incidentally this risotto, though as basic as basic can be, is absolutely delicious and would work as an accompaniment for all sorts of ingredients. Don’t be put off by the seemingly meagre portion of rice, it is rich enough to be perfectly satisfying.


Ingredients

2 x sea bass fillets (about 120g each)
Tbsp olive oil

Cherry tomatoes (preferably on the vine – they look so pretty!)

30g butter
Shallot, finely chopped
60ml vermouth (use white wine if you haven’t got any)
100g Arborio rice
300ml chicken stock
40g Parmesan cheese, finely grated

Serves 2, 16 pro points per portion

Switch the oven to 180 and whack in the cherry tomatoes to roast – they’ll take about 30 minutes but are relatively forgiving.

For the risotto, melt half the butter in a sturdy pan and, when ready, soften the shallot. When it is translucent (do not allow it to brown, you want mellow flavours here) tip in the rice, stir well to ensure that it is coated and then add the vermouth and allow to bubble off.

At this stage you know the drill: add a ladle of stock at a time and stir briskly, bashing the grains of rice about the pan, to absorb. Continue to do this for as long as it takes to cook the rice to the al dente stage – I would say about ten minutes, but keep checking the grains and work to your own taste. You may find you don’t use all the stock.

The fish will take about four minutes to cook, so time it to coincide roughly with the risotto being ready. Season the fillet well – the skin in particular needs a good sprinkling of salt. When ready, heat the oil in a pan – you want it really hot to enable you to get a good, crisp skin without overcooking the fish. Place the fillets skin side down into the hot pan and leave for three minutes. After that, flip them, turn the heat right down and allow them just a further minute to finish cooking.

When the risotto is cooked, add the remainder of the butter and the Parmesan, cover and leave to sit for a minute or so – don’t be tempted to skip this step, it really does make a difference.

Serve risotto and fish garnished with the cherry tomatoes and reflect upon the fact that, however predicable you may be, at least you have excellent taste.

A sad day for York foodies

Our beloved J Baker’s is closed.

We thought that it had looked quiet lately. But still, this was unexpected and rather sad. If ever I had a sentimental attachment to a restaurant it was that one, as my many mentions of it on here might have indicated. For me, the food was never anything less than delicious, but more than that, it had wit, humour, flair all rooted very firmly in locality and nostalgia. I shall miss it very much and am glad we made the effort to go back there recently.

On a wider point though, it is bad news for the York restaurant scene which (in my opinion) has never been as good as it should be. There are, in common with many cities in the UK, too many chains and, among the non chains, too many mediocre middle of the road establishments that are frightened to offer anything different. With the wealth of tourist footfall through the city, I would have thought there is plenty of scope for more dining experiences akin to J Baker’s. Sadly, it looks like I'm wrong.

I remain hopeful that Jeff Baker has merely opted for a change in direction – a comment on the York Evening Press website referred to him moving to another city -  and if that is the case then I wish him well and hope to dine with him again someday soon. And, to ease the blow, Andrew Pern of the superlative Star Inn is opening a new place in York this autumn which I am very, very, very excited about. After all, this is the man to whom I entrusted my wedding breakfast.

Recipe corner - Trout and Parma ham

I was browsing a couple of new food blogs the other day and was struck by the utter beauty of the accompanying photography.  Damn these people who are able to create delicious food and make it look good too.  It's not just the finished products that look good either - it's the casually strewn about strands of spaghetti, the gentle curve of a cherry tomato on the side of a saucer, or an artfully placed carrot/knife installation.  I've tried to do that, I really have, and they just look like I'm being my usual, haphazard self.  What I want to know is, do these people ever eat a hot meal?  I mean, really, when I'm plating up my dinner my thought processes are usually along the lines of "Must get food to belly as quickly as possible*....oh, should take a picture for the blog, where's the phone, grab, point, click - and we'll see if I can Instagram it into oblivion later."

*The naked greed demonstrated by this sentence is probably one of the reasons that I am fat.

Anyway, for today's example of the worst food photographer on the Blogosphere I give you:

Yeah.  Lucky it tasted good.

This is surf and turf Nigel Slater style, based very closely upon his original recipe here.  Trout, smeared with flavoured butter, wrapped in Parma ham and baked in the oven it was one of the tastiest things that I have cooked and eaten in a while.  And, despite a generous helping of butter, points friendly. 

I chose to make the butter in advance and chill it.  You could avoid this step and just smear the room temperature butter on the fish when assembling which would be a slightly quicker albeit messier process.  I'd probably just end up getting butter everywhere and be forced to lick it off my fingers.*

*The ardent love of butter demonstrated in this sentence is probably another reason why I am fat.

I served this with new potatoes which could be squished into the buttery juices, and the tail end of this year's asparagus (sob!)

Ingredients

2 trout fillets (approx. 110g each)
50g Parma ham in thin slices
30g butter
Clove of garlic, crushed
Tsp dried sage (or use fresh if, unlike me, you remember to buy it; dried worked perfectly well)
2 lemon wedges
Handful of flatleaf parsley, roughly chopped.

Serves 2, 8 pro points per portion

Make the butter in advance if you wish; ensure the butter itself is at room temperature and mash together with the crushed garlic, sage and some seasoning.  Tip the softened butter onto a small square of clingfilm and roll up into a little sausage of artery clogging goodness.  Bung in the fridge for a couple of hours to firm up.

When ready to cook, preheat the oven to 180.

Divide your slices of Parma ham into two portions and lay out vertically on a board.  Season the trout and then set, horizontally and skin side up, on the top of the ham to form a cross shape. 

Remove the butter sausage from the fridge, liberate from the clingfilm and thinly slice.  Lay the slices of butter on top of the trout.  Wrap the Parma ham around the trout fillet not bothering if the ends remain exposed.

Sit the fish, skin side up, in a baking dish with the two wedges of lemon.  Bake in the oven for 15-20 minutes.  Before serving, squeeze over the roasted lemon juice and sprinkle with chopped parsley.

Why isn't ert the opposite of inert?

I have been known to “hang out” (get me with the modern parlance) on the WW message boards from time to time. Weight loss – especially when you have a bit to lose – is like…I don’t know, golf, in that it is one of those things that becomes incredibly interesting and all consuming to you in a way that is utterly inexplicable to those who can’t relate.

Anyhoo, there is a lovely lady, K, on there who had lost stones and stones and who now runs seasonal challenges for other people – she puts you into teams and then you report your weight loss (or lack thereof) each week and she sends motivational messages and awards stars to the individuals and teams who lose the most weight…it’s all very much the kind of thing I appreciate and I thought I’d join this season for some additional motivation. I am in team 3 and they are lucky to have me (hollow laugh).

I had to report a gain for my first week of the challenge – which will be no surprise to anyone who saw my rather depressing post yesterday. I commented to K that real life was getting in the way of Weight Watching and she sent me a lovely response back:

You’re so right about real life interfering with our WW efforts! I think if you just stick at it, things will get better on the WW front. I look at it as a measure of my control over a small piece of a chaotic world. Everything else might be going wrong, but if I have control over what I eat, things are good in one part of my life.

Wise words indeed, from a woman who has proved that it is possible to lose a substantial amount of weight and, what’s even more incredible, keep it off.

So – things may be up in the air with D but today, just today, I’m going to take back a bit of control elsewhere.

I am inert

July. How did it get to be July? Just two more months and we reach the point of the calendar at which D and I said that we would make a final decision as to the future of our marriage.

This poor little blog has drifted away from its original purpose this year. It hasn’t been a blog about losing weight (although the scales have started to flurry downwards in recent weeks – and I’ve actually been stepping on the scales which is progress). It hasn’t really been a blog about food either, meal out posts aside, because the food I’ve been eating at home has been highly uninteresting. I don’t suppose anyone stumbling across it nowadays would feel inspired to learn more about Weight Watchers (although I am not, and never wish to be, an out and out advert for the company – I just happen to think that their healthy eating plan is eminently doable and sensible) or listen to a word I have to say on the subject of healthy eating. I still love it (the blog) though. I love the fact that it is an opportunity to do a little bit of writing every now and again and writing is something that really makes my heart sing. I love that I have retained little vignettes of my life across the past few years – and yes, most of them are food related but to be honest I have always been someone who measures out their days in meals rather than coffee spoons. And I want to continue to write it and, hopefully, make it less of the one woman pity party that it occasionally veers towards.

I guess that I am partly contemplating this now because I am distracted at the thought of the approaching deadline. If we decide to get back together, this blog will hopefully subside back into a cosy record of domestic meals and a suburban housewife’s battle of the bulge. But if we don’t? What then?

I recognise that my life cannot proceed in this, the state of limbo that I have existed in since last September. That, for me, has been the hardest thing about this process. The initial, horrific pain has subsided – as pain generally does – to a dull ache of loss. But the mourning process that must proceed from a relationship break up that I’ve not been able to fully go through. I feel like I’m caught in aspic – not quite single, not quite a wife. And it’s making me very, very tired now. Tired, and fed up and stubbornly resisting committing myself properly to anything. Like counting points. Or sorting out my messy spare room. Or knocking a couple of annoying tasks off my work to-do list. Or being anything other than inert.

Or perhaps it is just the weather. Let us be British and blame the weather instead.

J Baker's Bistro Moderne: NOT a York based fairy tale

Whatever the lovely Peridot may believe, J Baker's superlative restaurant in York does open occasionally.  Their opening hours do look to have been reduced recently; I hope this is an indication that Jeff is planning to rest on his laurels a bit rather than one of straitened economic times, but who knows nowadays.  Anthony's in Leeds has demonstrated that even top quality places in vibrant city centres can suffer in this sad, post-recession day and age.

Anyway, D and I went to JB for dinner last night to celebrate the fact that I passed an exam (hurrah!) and also just because we hadn't been in ever so long....it turns out that I still miss York terribly.  It also turns out that walking is a dangerous sport for me - I did something distinctly odd to my left calf while traversing from the bus stop to the office (about three minutes) which means that stairs are currently problematic (difficult when you live in a four storey house).

That aside, looks at the yummy stuff we had to eat:

Yum.

Yes, that's right, I got the Picasa app recently and am now totally au fait with this collage thing...

But, seriously, can I draw your attention to perfectly cooked spiced duck breast - dense and tender of flesh, crispy of skin (main, left).  Or mussels steamed over local beer with butter and peas (top, centre).  Or a crispy, filo wrapped, delicately seasoned take on a classic pork pie (bottom, right).  The only sadness for me was that the set dinner dessert was rice pudding, which is one of my very few pet hates.

Fantastic restaurant, beautiful city, happy foodie.  The only sadness for me was the look of approbation from the home scales this morning but still.  Some meals are worth it.

Bits and McBobs

We passed this very aptly named shop while wandering the streets of Stirling last week:

 

 

Amusingly named retail outlets aside, Stirling, in general, does not appear to have an awful lot to it.  There is a castle, which we had vaguely thought of visiting until we saw the admission charges.  Ye Gods.  There was quite a nice sweet shop which smelled of childhood.  And a few run of the mill pubby places that did not set the pulses racing.

The Bridge of Allan, just outside, was lovely though.  We found a very pleasant little bistro type place with a menu that although a tad generic was perfectly good. 

 It is easy to sniff at these sort of places but often they are a reliable bet for a decent supper if you don’t know much about your location.  I had an asparagus, goats’ cheese and sun blush tomato pizza which was perfectly pleasant and slipped down a treat with a glass of what-the-hell-it’s-the-end-of-the-holiday Prosecco.  Plus, the place was called Jam Jar and they served all sorts of stuff in, you know, jam jars.  Quirky, no?

Still in the Bridge of Allan, flicking through the visitors’ binder on our caravan site, we found mention of a local brewery  which we decided to visit on a whim;  D has become quite the real ale man recently and I have been trying to get into it – mainly because he shakes his head in a disapproving manner when I drink cider.  This was a real find – quirky interior, friendly staff, interesting beers made on site including an amazing Thai scented one (I kid you not and it was gorgeous – hints of lemongrass and chilli heat) and (this really excited me) Golden Wonder crisps!  I can’t remember the last time I saw Golden Wonder for sale – I assumed they had been crushed by the behemoth that is Walkers. 

Oh, and talking of Thai (elegant segue there….) back here in Leeds I’ve come across a very nice Thai place that I must share; Thai Aroy Dee on Vicar Lane which I visited on Sunday evening with a group of fellow foodies.  It’s small and unprepossessing looking – especially when compared to some of the other Thai restaurants in the Leeds city centre – but the food was excellent both in terms of quality and value (my two courses came in at just £11) and pretty authentic according to the party member who actually hailed from Thailand.  Definitely one to check out if you a) like Thai food and b) live in Leeds.

MPM: 24th June 2013

A fairly normal routine for me this week.  I'll be freezer diving for the main constituents of most of these meals, so not an awful lot of cooking is required but I do have the wherewithal to bake some apple and cinnamon muffins (recipe to follow if any good) so you never know...

The weekend is still a bit up in the air, but up until Friday I will mostly be chowing down on:

• Chicken wrapped in bacon with barbecue sauce and cheese (an 80s pub classic, from the Tesco Fresh and Easy range), mashed potatoes and steamed green veg
• A sticky sweet chilli Gressingham duck leg with egg rice and broccoli roasted with chilli and garlic
• Pollo pesto pasta bake
• Oven baked fish and chips (Tesco Finest - not a bad substitute for the real thing) with mushy peas.  And ketchup.  Lots of tomato ketchup. 

Oh, and Thursday I'm going out to celebrate passing my exam.

It doesn't look like the most diet friendly of weeks, but with the exception of the meal out all of these dinners have already been counted and are in my tracker.  Just goes to show that it is entirely possible to follow a healthy eating plan and not live on dust.

Head over to Mrs M's for more meal planning fun!

It was all going swimmingly...

Yesterday was rather like the curate's egg.  There was good news (you passed your exam!  You can go ahead and destroy those stupid index cards!) but also bad news.  I managed to lose both my keys and my purse - and when I say lose, I am becoming increasingly convinced that I actually unintentionally gifted them to someone.  It's not the end of the world - ok, I could have done without knowing how much locksmiths actually charge (ouch!) and all the cards got cancelled before any transactions went on them and there wasn't all that much cash in there, but still, it leaves an unpleasant taste in the mouth.  I am someone who goes through life probably being a bit careless at times because I tend to believe in the inherent goodness of most people.  I need to be more cautious because some people just aren't nice.  Which is sad.

Oh, and the purse itself was a Mulberry one which was a gift from D for my thirtieth birthday.  Which also makes me sad.  I have replaced it with a very pretty Accesorize one but still, I loved that purse.

Heigh ho.  I must admit, my last ditch attempts to reign in any Scottish themed damage went somewhat out of the window last night and (still in a spirit of confession) I was tempted to skip weigh in this morning as a result.  But I didn't, and the result was a 3lb gain which also isn't the end of the world.  A good week will sort that out.

And then, post weigh in and post post weigh in coffee, I went swimming which is news in itself.  I took out an expensive gym membership back when I moved here in September and then, like 67% of people with gym memberships proceeded to not use it.  I just thought about using it a lot.  While lying on the sofa.  Weeping.  And drinking wine.  Which meant that my fitness went woefully downhill.  Which made me even less inclined to use it.  But I have, just in the last few weeks, gradually started to reintroduce it into my life.  I used to love some of the classes that I went to at the gym - I think I would struggle with an hour of Body Combat at the moment, so I've started with swimming, and I'm going to build up.  It's probably too soon to notice a huge difference, but earlier this week I walked up a hill to get to the Wallace Monument and then walked up said monument and didn't die.  I take victory where I can get it.   

The Wallace Monument.  Big in Scotland.

View from the Wallace Monument, complete with Scottish flag.  And top of random man's head.

Raggle taggle gypsies - oh!

First, a huge thank you for all those crossed fingers, toes and eyes - I passed my latest exam.  So that is two modules down, umpteen to go before I can call myself fully versed in the ways of tax. 

Bonny Scotland - the countryside just outside Sterling

Now, let's talk about far nicer things shall we - like gypsy caravans?  I first saw these mentioned on one of my fellow Monday Meal planner's blogs and it was love at first hyperlink click.  Actually, I declared myself in love with The Chip in yesterday's post, didn't I...does this make me fickle?  Probably just overly effusive about everything.  Anyway, Bramble Bield.  I've tried camping once before and hated it (ha - so not effusive about everything) - I find the concept of sleeping on the floor with nothing but a thin sheet of canvas to protect you from the elements as the very antithesis of fun.  But sleeping in a pretty Romany caravan, with net curtains and fairy lights?  That, I can get on board with.  This, my friends, is glamping.

And our caravan, Rowan, was very beautiful...(I particularly like the ethereal ray of light slanting down through the first picture...)

 

But, let's be strictly truthful here, if I was an estate agent I would call Rowan bijoux.  I, a diminutive 5 foot 4 (and a half) actually just about fit, lengthways, on the bed.  D struggled and ended up having to adopt a sort of C shape which I don't think he found particularly comfortable.  Another of the caravans, a fetching green one called Holly, is said to be larger.

Minor length issues aside, Bramble Bield was a lovely place to pass a couple of days.  Although the site itself felt fairly isolated it was actually just a few miles outside Sterling.  And the fact that adjoining us was a fully fitted kitchen and working shower meant that it was somewhat more civilised than the aforementioned camping experience.  Oh, and talking of civilised, the owner brought a lovely Continental breakfast round for us each morning - cereal, fresh bread, pastries, fruit, yoghurt - far more than we could manage in one sitting.  One minor gripe?  No Yorkshire tea bags.  We're going to have to start carrying our own around with us.
 

Powis House Lodge  

Stirling

FK9 5PS
01786 460231

Glasgow and The Ubiquitous Chip

I knew very little about Glasgow prior to visiting it.  Just that it was "Not Edinburgh".  I still don't feel like I know very much about it; I suppose there is a limit to what you can learn in less than 24 hours.  I didn't immediately warm to it in the way that I have with some cities.  The town centre suffers a bit, as do most British cities, with the rash of same old-same old shop fronts and while some of the architecture was beautiful some of it was awful 1970s concrete monstrosities - occasionally right next door.  But the area around the university was absolutely gorgeous.  And Ashton Lane, the location of the restaurant at which we dined on Sunday evening, was equally lovely and made me think there could well be more to Glasgow if one took the time to scratch the surface.

I was already a bit in love with The Ubiquitous Chip before even looking at the menu because as far as I am concerned it is the best name EVER.  And then there was the fact that the food looked rather exciting and used lots of amazing Scottish produce.  And then we arrived and...well, the interior.  It's amazing.  Like dining in an airy conservatory all strewn about with foliage and fairy lights.  Kitsch as anything and utterly, utterly gorgeous.

 

 

We had a very minor falling out when it transpired that the main course that my beady little eye had been trained upon was not on the current menu.  It is, of course, a rookie mistake to set your heart on something that appears on the website - most decent restaurants change their menus far more frequently than their sites and quite right too.  And the food that I did end up eating was excellent anyway.

 

 

If I had to pick a favourite dish - and we're talking gun to the head situation - it would be the truly divine steak with brown shrimp butter - which pictured on the left above looks the least inspiring.  Let me tell you, this was some seriously good cow.  And the kitchen actually knew how to cook a steak blue - it was practically mooing when it came out.  Gorgeous stuff.  But there was plenty to love elsewhere - including a quinoa accompaniment which actually sold me on that rather worthy grain. 

 

In short, an excellent dinner but as to Glasgow itself, I remain undecided.  However, since The Chip and I are now officially dating, I may well have to go back and explore some more.

 

The Ubiquitous Chip

12 Ashton Lane
Glasgow,
Lanarkshire
G12 8SJ
0141 334 5007

 



The scales are a cruel and fickle mistress

But not today.  Today I lost another 2.5lbs.  I should add that I successfully managed to sleep through my official weigh in - a permanent Saturday alarm has now been set to ensure such muppetry doesn't happen again - so that this result comes from my rather funky-hot-pink-home scales.  But, since they were in line with the less-funky-more-functional-looking-WW scales last week, I think it is acceptable to take their word.

I had a secret goal in my head to be into the next stone bracket down before we head off for a few days break in Scotland, which I achieved.  Since we don't like to bandy numbers around on this blog, let's just say that I've moved from MAYDAY:0.5 to YIKES:12.  HAPPY:10 is still a long way off, but these kind of little milestones do help.

If I can maintain this week, I'll be more than happy.  I'm going to be taking my pedometer away with me and plenty of walks are planned, but, equally, some indulgent eating - not least a dinner in Glasgow's Ubiquitous Chip which I am thoroughly looking forward to and can't wait to share with you.  More importantly than the food though, I am hoping for some real quality time with D.  We are coming up to the time when we have to decide whether or not we want to be a proper couple again and, at the moment, things feel good - I hope this trip confirms that.  I mean, how could you fail to feel romantic staying here?

Photo credit: bramblebield.com

MPM: 10th June 2013

Well, I said in my last post that I needed to get back into meal planning, so here we go.  A tentative toe in the water. 

I'm pleased to say that, following the outpouring of optimism last week, I lost two and a half pounds at my weigh in on Saturday morning.  And I'm equally pleased to say that, at the time of writing (Sunday afternoon) I have still not succumbed to any wobbles or wibbles.  Another good week prior to our trip to Scotland would be a real boost.

It's a bit of an odd one though, this week, since I'm staying with D for the first couple of days.  I have an exam on Wednesday (which I may have mentioned once or thrice) and, following a bit of a meltdown in which I told him that I was going to eat WORMS and then FAIL the exam because I had NO-ONE to make me tea or mop my fevered brow, he *ahem* thought to invite me.  So he was in charge of meal planning for the first couple of days - but luckily he is a well trained estranged husband and picked two of my absolute favourite dinners. 

Wednesday - exam day - I am playing by ear.  I have a book group meeting in the evening so hopefully there won't be too much rocking in a corner.  Saturday I've left unplanned as well - but I'm thinking it will be a post weigh in pre holiday pizza (pointed, of course).  And Sunday, it's off to Glasgow and dinner at The Chip.

Rest of the meals look like this:

• Salmon fillet with pasta pesto
• Pan roasted chicken breast with lemon couscous and asparagus
• Chilli con carne burrito with salad and minted crème fraiche dressing (x2)

More meal planning fun over at Mrs M's.

Make (wa)hay while the sun shines

It’s amazing what a spell of good weather will do to the spirits. Or maybe it is that, finally, after nine months of wound licking and general feeling a bit Eeyore-ish I am perking up. Either way, I have been in an oddly good mood the last few days. I feel…hopeful.

Diet first of all – and I have had a run of excellently good days, including a delicious meal out at a local restaurant where all choices were sensible, tracked and washed down with mineral water. For the fifty billionth time, I ask myself why I apparently find it so difficult to stick to what is essentially a very sensible and balanced eating plan all the time. Especially when I consider how much well-er (not a word, I know) I feel when chock full of fruit and veg and fish and Good Things.

Marriage second of all – and we have had a lovely few dates in the last couple of weeks and a positive session with the Nodding Counsellor last night. I can’t deny that I hope we get back together. I think it would be a terrible shame if we don’t. But, equally, I have begun making tentative contingency plans for what I will do if we decide not to reunite, and, although the prospect doesn’t fill me with joy neither does it fill me with complete and utter dread. Just profound sadness.

I have some things on the horizon to look forward to – well, post exam anyway (on which note please spare a thought for me a week tomorrow). Most notably, a trip to Scotland which will involve a couple of nights in a proper gypsy caravan here and an overnight stay in Glasgow with a meal at a restaurant called The Ubiquitous Chip which has been on our to-do list for some time. Aside from anything else, don’t you just think it is the best name for a restaurant ever?

Now, if I could just get back into the habit of meal planning (which I always find an invaluable tool for WWing success) and get a couple of good results on the scales I think I’d almost be back to being a proper Good Blogger.

Recipe corner: Hazelnut meringue cake with whipped cream and berries

I can't pretend that this post contains a recipe that is remotely WW or other diet friendly.  It is, however, cake and very good cake at that.  And it has fruit in it.  And no flour which makes it suitable for thems what can't eat flour.  So, as my brother said, practically a health food.

Last Monday, you see, was my mother's birthday and birthdays must always bring cake.  My brother D and family were visiting from London and very lovely it was to see them too.  My sister in law V is currently doing a sterling job growing a new little addition to the family and being mother to little D who at nearly two and a half is my favourite example of the toddler genre.  D and V took charge of the very important job of making Mum a birthday cake; I think I offered to help but I am far less efficient than the two of them, not to mention far more lazy, so ended up watching Shrek 3 with little D instead.  Which made me cry a bit when Shrek had a midlife crisis and decided he didn't want to be a husband and father anymore - I am predictably maudlin when it comes to marital unrest portrayed in the media.  Little D seemed to enjoy it though.

Anyway, cake.  I didn't get round to asking why they picked this particular one but I am glad that they did because it was very nice and perfect for the sunny weather we had last weekend - it felt almost more like a dessert than a cake.  We didn't put candles in it.  We did, however, drink champagne and sing happy birthday so I don't think Mum minded.

The only change that I have made here to the original Rachel Allen recipe is to reduce the amount of cream by 100mls.  I don't think that will make a great deal of difference (there was a lot of cream in lovely Rachel's version) and it does bring the point / calorie / fat count down a bit. 

Ingredients

10g butter
225 g hazelnuts, whole, skin on
6 medium eggs
200g caster sugar

To serve:
250ml double cream
10g icing sugar
Mixed berries
Fresh mint leaves

Serves 10, 11 pro points per slice

Firstly you need to toast the hazelnuts in a hot oven - there is an excellent how to here.

Now, using the butter, grease a loose bottomed (heh heh) 23cm tin and preheat the oven to 170 (fan 150).

Blitz the toasted hazelnuts in a processor (or, alternatively, you could work off some pent up aggression by pounding them with a rolling pin).  Whisk together the egg yolks and sugar until pale and fluffy and gently fold in the hazelnuts.

In a separate, clean bowl, whisk the egg whites until they form stiff peaks - or, until you can hold the bowl upside down over your head without getting an egg rinse.  Gently fold these into the other mixture until completely incorporated. Be sure to fold and not stir - stirring will destroy all those little air bubbles that you have just created into the whites and lead to a heavier cake.

Put the batter in the buttered tin and bake for around 45 mins until an inserted skewer comes out clean.  Rachel says don't worry if it sinks slightly in the middle - I take this to mean that it will inevitable sink in the middle.

Allow to cool in the tin for 10 mins before sliding out onto a pretty serving plate.  Allow to cool completely before the final stage.

Prior to serving, whip up the cream until stiff and then smear or pipe it on before decorating with fruit, a dusting of icing sugar and torn mint.

Sunshine? On a bank holiday weekend?

You must forgive me if I'm a little quiet over the next few weeks - I have an exam coming up which necessitates a lot of wandering around shaking my fist at myself for thinking having a job which involves passing exams is a sensible idea. 

We had a lovely time at the weekend though, so let's focus on that for now.  Saturday and Sunday were properly sunny days of a kind that seldom exhibit themselves on a British bank holiday.  The fact that they have subsequently been replaced by grey skies and drizzle doesn't really detract. 

D and I have been trying to have quality time together - actually doing things rather than behaving like any normal married couple and sitting around watching the telly.  So we strapped on our walking boots and, er, went for a walk.  After nine months of lying around on the sofa weeping into my wineglass, the five and a half miles proved something of a struggle.  I really must start swimming regularly to build up some fitness.

East Witton in bloom - note blue sky

The very best kinds of walk involve at least one stop off in a pub, and the circular route from Jervaux Abbey via East Witton (see here) does just that.  And what a pub as well!  The Blue Lion in East Witton is an absolutely fabulous foodie destination.  We only stopped off for a light lunch but the full menu almost had me leaving an unseemly trail of drool from the bar out to our table.


Lunchtime platter at the Blue Lion

D went for the platter: pie, cheese, pate, a scotch egg and some very lurid piccalilli while I opted for a roast beef sandwich with some excellent chips.  Were it not for the fact that there were miles to go to get back to the car, caution might very well have been thrown to the wind though - I think I might need to go back for dinner.

Now, if you'll excuse me I need to stop having fun and go and learn more about tax.  But I promise to be back later in the week with a recipe for cake.  Hurrah!

The Blue Lion
East Witton  
Leyburn,
North Yorkshire
DL8 4SN
01969 624273

Alfred Bar, Leeds - one day everybody there will know my name...

I think I may be ready to bestow the accolade of My Favourite Bar in Leeds.  And, the thing is, it’s not even in Leeds but is tucked away in a sedate Northern suburb called Meanwood.  Which suits me because the older I get the more I find that city centres are tiring, bustling things.  I was in London at the weekend and, much as I will always love it, hauling myself on and off the packed Tube and navigating the churning crowds of the West End quickly palled. 

 

Anyway, back to Meanwood, and to Alfred, which is the kind of neighbourhood bar that every neighbourhood should have.  For a start, both the décor and the bar staff are quirky and cool but not off puttingly so.  There is an excellent range of real ales from predominantly local breweries but also some decent wines served by the glass not to mention a selection of hot drinks to go with the delectable homemade cakes that repose under retro Perspex cloches on the bar counter.  God, I love cake. 

The only possible downside is, perversely, one of its selling points – the size.  It is bijou, in estate agent speak, intimate, cosy – perfect for hunkering down on a Sunday afternoon with a pint and a paper.  Which is fabulous until they decide to do a free, unticketed Brewdog tasting event* that attracts half of the population of Meanwood, then it can start to feel a little claustrophobic.  Which is frankly nothing that another drink won't fix...

D wears his Brewdog badges with pride!

Anyway, should you find yourself in the area do pop in.  Alfred is actually part of a little chain which you can check out here - nice bars all, incidentally.

 

*And yes, you may well ask why someone on a diet should find themselves at a beer tasting event on the night before a weigh in to which I say – free samples!  Of yummy beer!  Life is far too short to miss out on such golden opportunities and when the scales give me a proverbial frown today, I shall tell them so.

Alfred
6 Stonegate Rd  
Leeds
West Yorkshire
LS6 4HY
0113 278 0779

Girls' weekend

No words required!

Lipstick on a pig

I want to start this by saying: this is not intended to be a sad post, a "poor me" post, a post to make my loved ones concerned. It is just something preying on my mind at the moment that I want to get down before I forget or get distracted by a new form of sandwich filling or something.

I've come to realise (or maybe, more accurately, acknowledge) that there is a part of my brain that steadfastly believes that I do not deserve good things because I am overweight.

I mean, it is a small part. Logically, I know it is the silliest form of silliness. But don't we all have those little voices deep down? Those voices that say that we're not worthy of x because of y?

I can't imagine why it is. I've never set an awful lot of store by being beautiful - I'd rather be described as clever or funny or, even, nice. I don't aspire to a career where looks are important. But still, always the nagging feeling that being big makes me...less.

D said, in our counselling session this week, that he wanted me to take more pride in myself, that he thought it was important - not because he sets any store by high maintenance females but because he feels that I've lost a bit of myself. I always respond to this by retorting that I scaled back the lipstick and the styling and the sparkle because he has often said he prefers a simpler aesthetic. But that's only part of the story.

And when I thought about it more, that old phrase kept flashing into my mind - what's the point of putting lipstick on a pig. It shocked me a little bit. Because that is some very sad, negative thinking right there that I wasn't even conscious of.


Do you know what? Pigs are great. They are highly intelligent, friendly, loyal, playful animals. And if a pig wants to wear lipstick - MAC or Chanel for preference - then she damn well should and tell that little voice inside to pipe the eff down.

Because, aside from anything else, losing weight is an act of self love in the same way that piling it on is often a way of expressing some form of self pity. And this little piggy will never get to where she wants to be until she gets her head around that.

Recipe corner: I take enormous pride in my asparagus and goats' cheese tart

I had such a proud moment last weekend.  Well, two if you count the rather pathetic pride I took in going for a walk.  Let’s not shall we – just between us friends let’s pretend that I’m not so needy that I require praise for enacting the basic human function of putting one foot in front of another for a prescribed length of time.

Anyway, the other proud moment was – I made a tart!  With pastry and filling and everything!  From scratch!  And it was scrummy and didn’t have a soggy bottom and didn’t leak and it made a fantastic spring supper.

Now, this is notable for two reasons.  The first is that, as long time readers who have held on through the various ups and downs of the scales and my emotional stability respectively will know, my cooking mojo upped and went a little while ago and has proved a slippery little bugger ever since.  Hence my recent ode to sandwiches and the lack of many recipes on the blog this year.  So me getting back in the kitchen is always worthy of a mention these days.  But the second is that pastry is one of those things that I’ve never really tackled.  Like bread, pastry makes me furrow my brow in…not fear exactly, but certainly a little trepidation.  I think it’s because whenever you see someone on television make either bread or pastry they say something along the lines of “It’s nowhere near as hard as you think it is!” or “There’s no need to be scared!” which…I don’t know, it just sows the seed of doubt doesn’t it?  Plus the fact that my Mum makes the best quiche ever in the history of the world gives me some pretty high standards to which to aspire.  But, nevertheless, I had some asparagus in the fridge and a yen for an asparagus tart.

Look Ma!  I made pastry!

I knew that I wanted the pastry to be savoury and crumbly – perhaps flavoured with Parmesan for extra saltiness.  And I knew I wanted the asparagus to be softly suspended in a custard with just a hint of nutmeggy, peppery warmth so that the iron flavour of those beautiful green shoots would be predominant.  And I quite fancied a scattering of goats’ cheese on top – a young, fresh goats’ cheese that had a touch of lemon to it for some much needed acidity.  And so that is what I made.  Warm (not hot) from the oven, it was perfect with some crispy garlicky roast potatoes and a lightly dressed salad.  Cold, it made a most excellent lunch.

 

Ingredients

140g plain flour

85g butter, cubed
3-4 tbsp cold water
75g Parmesan, finely grated
Salt, pepper, whole nutmeg
Bunch of asparagus
4 eggs
140ml skimmed milk
125g soft goats’ cheese

Serves 6, 9 pro points per portion

OK, first pastry.  Deep breath.  The one thing I have gleaned from years of intensive foodie telly watching is that when you make pastry, everything needs to be cold.  So, I chilled in the fridge at every stage.  First – measure out the flour, the butter and two thirds of the Parmesan into a large bowl.  Put in the fridge, alongside a glass of water for half an hour.

Now you want to combine the fat and the flour.  I used the Kitchen Aid paddle for this but you could equally just rub it in with your fingers.  If you do, try to make sure you use just the finger tips.  When the mixture resembles dry sand, add the chilled water a tablespoon at a time.  Again, I did this in the mixer but you could equally use a spoon or a palate knife.  When it looks like it is thinking about coming together, use your hands to form it into a ball – if it is damp enough it should do this without effort but, equally, without feeling sticky.  I found it took exactly four tablespoons of water.  Wrap in cling film and return to the fridge. 

During the second chill, prepare your asparagus – snap off the woody ends and slice in half lengthwise.  If it is particularly thick you may consider blanching it for a minute or so just to take the edge off (blanche – plunge into boiling water, then remove and transfer immediately to a bowl of cold water, or run the cold tap over until cool to the touch).

Now – rolling the pastry out.  I used a Rachel Allen tip which is: instead of rolling out on a floured work surface, roll between two sheets of cling film.  This worked beautifully and means you don’t risk adding to much flour to the mix and upsetting the ratios in the pastry.  Transfer to a 20cm diameter tart dish.  Trim any overhanging ends and use the trimmings to ensure that there are no holes and that the crust is even all the way around.  Return to the fridge for a final half hour blast.  Preheat the oven to 180.

Using baking parchment and beans or rice to line, bake the case blind for 15 minutes then remove from the oven and bake for a further 10-15 minutes until pale gold.  Pause for a moment to congratulate yourself on your skill.

Beat the eggs briefly and then add the milk and whisk again until a little frothy.  Season with salt, pepper and nutmeg. 

Sprinkle the remaining Parmesan on the base of the case, artfully arrange the asparagus and then pour over the egg mix – carefully to avoid overflow.  Finally, crumble the goats. cheese on top before returning to the oven for around 35 minutes until puffed and golden.  Allow to cool to just-slightly-warmer-than-room-temperature before serving.

I take my pedometer for a walk

Oh, how I wished that I was one of those lucky souls who enjoyed exercising. 

I think I've had phases of tolerating it to the extent that I got into the routine of going along to things that were not entirely loathsome and then quite enjoyed the positive effect that it had on my physical and mental wellbeing.  But it is far, far easier to fall out of a routine than it is to get into one. 

It's safe to say that I am not in any sort of routine at the moment.  There is a gym a mere hop, skip and a jump away with a lovely pool and a whole array of exciting classes and I am struggling to motivate myself to get there.  D keeps telling me that I should walk the half hour straight line between my house and my office rather than jumping on a bus.  He is right of course.  But walking along a main road is terribly dull.  And, also, have I ever mentioned before the terrible problems I have with general balance and rightfootedness?  Part of the issue is my weight distribution; I am essentially a Weeble - an almost perfectly spherical thing perched precariously on two little legs.  I have to actually concentrate to resist the pull of gravity which would have me toppling forward at any given moment in time.

And part of the issue is very simply this - I am terribly, terribly lazy.  I would, in all seriousness, list napping as one of my favourite pastimes - especially while being lulled by the dulcet tones of an audiobook or something soothing from Radio 4.  D tells me that sleep doesn't really count as a hobby.  I beg to disagree.  I thought that when I hit my thirties I would finally grow out of my rather teenagerish sleep patterns, the ability to sleep until noon if left undisturbed.  It has not happened yet and, the thing is, now that I live alone, I sometimes have very little motivation to rise from my rather comfortable bed.

The good folk at Weight Watchers obviously have encountered people of my ilk before as a part of the WW programme is a thing called Activity Points - essentially, if you exert yourself you earn bonus points which can, in turn, be scoffed.  I've noticed a lot of people on the message boards laugh in the face of such gluttony - why, they say, would I go to the trouble of earning these points to then eat them?  Why, say I, would you not?  And Weight Watchers have gone one step further by inventing a pedometer that not only counts your steps but beeps every time you have shuffled far enough to earn one of these precious, precious points.  I've been toying with the idea of buying one for ages but finally cracked on Friday and have been walking round with it clipped to me ever since - consulting it every so often to see how far I've walked.  As motivaters go, it's surprisingly effective.

On Saturday, D and I took the pedometer out for a walk.  There was a Gu chocolate ganache pot with my name on it in the fridge and, as I trotted, slightly sweaty and grim faced a few paces behind him, my ear was constantly cocked for the sound of the beep that would get me one step closer to guilt free pudding.

Oh, and there were some pretty spring flowers as well...

Although I must admit that sometimes I stop to take a photograph not so much because I am overcome by the beauty of nature but that I need to catch a breath or two...shhhhhhhh.

Living below the line

Being fat is a very first world problem. There is something uncomfortably, horribly wrong about a world where resources are spread so unevenly that some of us can actually not only afford to over consume but then, spend even more money on learning how not to over consume or why we have over consumed in the first place.

There are a few bloggers out there taking part in a challenge where they have to feed themselves for £1 a day. I received an email about it myself a few weeks ago and thought, oh, that sounds interesting and then promptly forgot about it. Probably because I am guilty of spending too much time staring at my own navel. But also, if I am truthful, because the idea of eating nothing but lentils for a week did not particularly fill me with joy.

So I just wanted to write this post as a shout out to all those people brave and clever enough to give this a go. The more I think about it, the more the idea of poverty terrifies me – and I am someone who is blessed enough to never have experienced anything even approaching poverty.

The website, Live Below the Line, is here for anyone who is interested. Good luck to all who are taking part through choice and God bless all those for whom living on a pound a day is a permanent reality.