Good crafternoon

Now that winter has slithered its way back into our lives, I am presented with a new challenge to my ‘try new things’ mission. Summertime activities included paddleboarding, jogging, archery, visiting a country fair and a butterfly garden – all well and good when the sun is shining and the ground is dry (OK, paddleboarding being the exception there), but now I am restricted by the weather. Not to be put off, my new things this week are definitely inside activities, and I’ve been reminded that one nice thing about winter is the absence of that ‘really must get outside’ feeling when sometimes one just wants to cosy it up indoors.


This week I was inspired by Prime’s excellent River Cottage series (Tuesdays, 7.30pm), hosted by the dorkily charming Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. His mission is to try to get people to slow down and enjoy food more, and to prove that home-cooked food is not only good for you, but often tastes better too and is actually easier than you think. Last week’s episode was about making bread, and a baker on the show mentioned that one of life’s greatest joys is to bake fresh bread and eat it while it’s still warm from the oven. I am a willing participant in anything joyful, so I shrugged my shoulders, rolled up my sleeves and commenced the time-honoured tradition of bread-making… by hand. No fancy-pants breadmaker for me.

I followed a recipe in Allyson Gofton’s wonderful Bake recipe book. I won’t type the whole thing out but if you’re desperate for the recipe, let me know. It’s very simple – only five ingredients – and the steps are straightforward, but you really need to dedicate an afternoon to it because the dough needs to rise twice. (At least, it does in this recipe.) One important thing is to get the kneading technique right. Put on some funky music and knead to the beat for 8 to 10 minutes. It’s a great forearm workout and an excellent way to relieve any pent-up stress. And, of course, that first cut into the still-steaming crust, followed by the taste of the butter-smothered fluffy bread, makes it all worthwhile. My verdict: making bread is a wonderful cosy-wosy warm winter activity, and you get to feel all ‘back to basics’ and wholesome too.

My other new thing this week was to host a ‘crafternoon’ for my three delightful sisters-in-law. The brief was simply to take some time out and bring along any projects that we’ve been meaning to get to. I made this delicious – and very easy – Magic Slice, which I sourced from the blog of the equally delicious children’s clothing label Bubbalino. We positioned ourselves on the floor of the lounge, surrounded by our crafty tools and materials, and chatted and crafted to our hearts’ content. My project was a present for my fourth sister-in-law, who lives in Dunedin and who happens to be only three years old. I made her a memory game using photos of her Auckland family so she can remember us. In unison – awww! The rainy afternoon was whiled away extremely pleasantly, and was a lovely way to end the week. No wonder I’m feeling so balanced and peaceful today.

So it seems that winter is not going to be too much of a hindrance to this mission. In fact, the more challenges, the more creative one needs to be to find new, interesting and free (or cheap) things to try. As always, let me know if you’ve got any ideas for me.

Two New Breakfasts

For a long time now I’ve been meaning to watch Breakfast At Tiffany’s, that perennial favourite 1961 film starring Audrey Hepburn. I finally got the chance on Monday night by way of our snazzy Tivo, which enables us to download movies (legally!) and watch them two minutes after the touch of a button. Fab.

When watching or reading a classic film or book it’s always intriguing to ponder why this in particular captured the hearts of so many and has endured past its initial popularity. With Breakfast At Tiffany’s it’s obvious right from the beginning scene; Audrey Hepburn as the delightfully named Holly Golightly is breathtakingly elegant, and the character’s bubbly naivety is such that you can’t help but be enchanted by her unique character. The actress is well supported by male lead George Peppard, who plays a struggling writer, Paul, who lives in Holly’s building and becomes intrigued by her flighty, socialite ways. According to the excellent original trailer, which you can view here, the pair ‘breeze through the glitter and shimmer of New York’ doing ‘everything you’ve always wanted to do… and Audrey Hepburn’s the one you’ve always wanted to do it with!’

Indeed, in one excellent scene Holly and Paul decide to spend the day challenging each other to do things they’d never done before. Sound familiar? They drank champagne before breakfast, took a walk in New York in the morning, bought something from Tiffany’s (well, had something engraved – a ring from a packet of Crackerjacks), went to the public library and stole something from the ‘Five and Dime’ store. Nothing too outrageous, but it made for a fun day and would be a good idea for a first date!

Can you recommend any classic movies, on their own merit rather than because ‘you really should watch it’?

A couple of other new things this week, of the culinary variety: Banoffee Slice, below – try it and weep – and Honey and Peanut Butter Booster Bars, which are perfect for a quick breakfast. And morning tea. And afternoon tea. All on the same day.

Banoffee Slice

1 cup self-raising flour
¼ cup caster sugar
100g butter, melted
2 medium bananas, sliced thinly diagonally
1 cup thickened cream, whipped
60g milk eating chocolate

Caramel filling
395g canned sweetened condensed milk
90g butter, chopped coarsely
½ cup firmly packed light brown sugar
2 tbsp golden syrup

1. Preheat oven to 180 deg. Grease 20cm square pan; line with baking paper, extending over sides.

2. Combine sifted flour and sugar in a small bowl. Stir in butter. Press misture firmly over base of pan. Bake about 20 minutes. Cool.

3. Meanwhile, make the caramel filling. Stir ingredients in medium saucepan over medium heat about 12 minutes or until caramel in colour. Cool 5 minutes.

4. Pour filling over base. Refrigerate 1 hour or until firm.

5. Place banana over caramel; top with whipped cream. Grate chocolate, using a vegetable peeler; sprinkle over cream before cutting slice.

See Me Sumo

If you had tapped me on the shoulder at some point in the last year and said, ‘Anna, at 3pm on Saturday 30th April 2011 you will go sumo wrestling,’ I would have shrieked ‘Get thee to a mental hospital!’ (or, more likely, just looked at you askance with my lip slightly curled and my eyebrows slightly raised). But that’s exactly what I found myself doing on Saturday – sumo wrestling with my beloved. And no, it’s not some creepy way of referring to another unmentionable activity; as the photos attest, we actually donned fat suits and wrestled each other to the ground.


We had been invited to partake in said activity by a friend who was celebrating her husband’s birthday at Big Ups Games in Mt Roskill, an inflatable games venue for ‘kids of all ages’. The vast array of fun on offer boggles the mind when you first walk in: horizontal bungy, jousting, human fly, zorbs, boxing, climbing wall… the list goes on. Oh, and, of course, sumo wrestling. For a girl on a ‘try new things’ mission, this place is a boon.

For $15 per adult you get unlimited access to all the activities mentioned above, and more. My recommendation is not to take a toddler, who will need constant supervision so she doesn’t get knocked over by flying 10 year olds, and who will cry when Mummy and Daddy disappear into the fat suits. The presence of the toddler prevented me from trying everything out, but I did get a go in the zorb, and I got to jump on a bouncy castle for about 45 minutes, which was awesome.

I’m definitely going back. Without the 2-year-old. I’ve just read on the website that it’s available for hire for private functions. I just happen to know someone whose 30th birthday is coming up in September… someone who doesn’t like rugby, so who does not necessarily want to have a party because she KNOWS it will be ruined by whatever BLOODY game will be played that night.

So back to the sumo wrestling. If you do it, be warned that although there is ample padding on the front of the suits, the same cannot be said for the back, so when your husband body-slams you to the floor it kind of hurts. And it’s impossible to get back up gracefully. We didn’t last long because I could hardly move in the heavy suit, so it quickly descended into some kind of bizarre parody of the conjugal activities of the two Galapagos turtles at the zoo. I couldn’t speak for laughing.

Newly Scientific

This ‘try new things’ mission is evolving. I’m attempting to step outside my comfort zone to try things that don’t fit with the concept of self that I have built up over the past 30 years. It’s quite revealing; although I think of myself as quite a confident person, subconsciously I must have decided a long time ago that certain things are just not for me – I am not good at them and do not like them. This mission is proving to be a chance to revisit these things with fresh eyes, and it’s a wonderful opportunity to open doors that have been closed for many years. It reminds me of this beautiful quote from Frederico Fellini, Italian film-maker:

“Put yourself into life and never lose your openness, your childish enthusiasm, throughout the journey that is life, and things will come your way.”


So it was with all this in mind that I picked up the latest copy of my husband’s New Scientist magazine. After 10 years of living with this publication littering my coffee table and the arms of my couch, it was time to take a closer look. Having long ago decided that ‘science’ is really boring and hard, I had accepted that my children will be getting their science tuition and interest from their dad, and I would take care of the languagey, arty type stuff. But what if it’s actually interesting? What if I find that these science guys have something to offer me? I decided to try reading the magazine cover to cover.


I began, as you do, with the editorial, which stated tantalisingly that ‘particle physics has been gripped by an excitement not seen for 16 years’. Apparently the Higgs boson hasn’t yet been found (bummer), but another new theory is gathering steam – a fifth fundamental force called technicolour. Excellent! Or is it? Don’t ask me.


The next few pages were a bit easier on the beginner scientist. Aloe vera has been proved to cause tumours in rats (maybe you should lay off that aloe juice). A Swiss pharmaceutical company is selling a drug based on cannabis. The photographs of amateur astronomers have been used to create a montage of a comet, which helps scientists to map the path of the comet around the sun. And omega-3 eaten in the last months of pregnancy may help to ward off post-natal depression.


I’m only up to page 39 of 56, even though I’ve been reading the mag at every spare moment I have. This is a magazine so chock-a-block with ideas and information that even the ads are intelligent. I think I can actually feel my brain growing as I read it. Reading New Scientist while breastfeeding proves difficult, especially when I’m interrupted every 20 seconds by a toddler shouting demands to watch ‘Windy Pooh’ or gleefully yelling ‘Wees!’ with the smug knowledge that that’s the one thing that will force me up out of the chair.


But I’m surprised to announce that I am determined – and perfectly willing – to read right till the end. I’m especially looking forward to the section about the science of happiness. This month will see the UK become the first country in the world to officially record the happiness of its citizens. The survey to determine this consists of only four questions: How satisfied are you with your life nowadays? How happy did you feel yesterday? How anxious did you feel yesterday? To what extent do you feel the things you do in your life are worthwhile? The point of this research is to ‘enable citizens to make better life decisions and help win support for wiser social policies’. The article goes on to analyse happiness from a psychological and neurological point of view. It should make for interesting reading, and I’m looking forward to finding out more about the survey, and its results later on. And I’ll be picking up the next edition of the New Scientist too – but perhaps next time I’ll give particle physics and anything that mentions the Higgs boson a wide berth.

Yiamas!

I am somewhat of a stay-at-home-at-all-costs bod at the moment, so I have to ask my social life to come to me. What better way than to have a pot-luck dinner with a group of girls? I decided on a Greek theme after Googling the date and discovering that it was the calculated date of Odysseus’ return from the Trojan War. Time to celebrate, pot-luck style!


Turns out having a theme is a rather good idea, if I do say so myself. It meant everyone stepped outside their comfort zone to try something new, with most excellent results. It also created quite a cohesive dinner, as opposed to the hotch potch of a true pot-luck dinner. My guests embraced the theme and by 8pm the table was groaning with the flavours of Greece: feta, tomatoes, lamb, eggplant, yoghurt, olives…

Some standout dishes included lamb-stuffed peppers, cumin meatballs, and a mouth-wateringly delicious starter consisting of grilled haloumi on slices of bread with cherry tomatoes.



When I was in Greece in 2001 I lived on a diet of bread, feta and tomatoes (and, oddly, Nutella). Rather than stick to those old favourites I tried something new – walnut-topped baklava wafers with yoghurt and lemon honey syrup. Although a bit fiddly, they were very easy once I got the hang of it, and looked and tasted great. I recommend Puhoi Greek Yoghurt, which is silky smooth with a hint of sweetness in the aftertaste. Delicious.

We discussed ideas for another themed dinner – Mexican, Thai, Indian? Or maybe we could think outside the box a bit and do something like ‘breakfast for dinner’ or ‘only 3 ingredients’. We thought maybe next time we should organise it so that half the guests bring food and the other half bring wine, as we didn’t even touch the sides of some of the dishes. Not that I minded the next day – leftovers from that kind of meal are welcome any day. And I somehow scored two bowls out of the affair, too. Sweet.

Waddly Archer

This week I tried, in vain, to continue the water sports theme by booking in a kitesurfing lesson. Foiled by the wind (or lack thereof) at the eleventh hour, I was at a loss for what ‘new thing’ I could try. While contemplating this conundrum I was invited out to afternoon tea with some very dear friends of my parents in the beautiful Bethell’s Beach valley. As luck would have it, over the summer their Norwegian son-in-law had helped them to set up an archery range in their backyard. Bingo.

We wandered down to the archery range after a delicious piece of feijoa and ginger cake. While my daughter picked apples with my mum, and tui sang encouragingly from above, we laid out the bows and sorted the arrows. Feeling very Maid Marian, I confidently strung up the bow, only to find that I had inadvertently put it on backwards. Unfortunately, this was a sign of things to come; it turns out that I was not born to be an archer.

Not one of my arrows hit the rather large target board. Our friend kindly suggested that perhaps I should try the other bow, which supposedly gives the arrow a bit more flight. From this bow my arrows either went zinging way above the target into the bank behind, or fell rather pathetically to the ground a few metres short of the target. My husband and I swapped bows again, but I could blame my incompetence on my tools no more. I had a lot of fun and I’d like to try it again, but let’s hope I’m not called upon to hunt for live game to feed my family. They would get very hungry.

Top tips for the beginner archer: wear long sleeves (the arrows can rip past your forearm and leave quite a scrape) and find a very patient tutor.

The other new thing I’ve started is jogging. Those of you who know me well will probably need to read that sentence again to make sure you’ve read right, as I have traditionally been the girl who gets her mum to write notes on cross country day, and wouldn’t run for the bus if it was the last one on earth. But I picked up Kerre Woodham’s book Short Fat Chick in Paris for a bit of light reading, which is a follow-up to her first novel, Short Fat Chick to Marathon Runner. In the back of the book there are letters from people who were inspired by Kerre’s first book, and one of them was a mother of three young children. She wrote the following:

‘Fellow mothers of young children will agree that as a mum you are alone, but never alone! Running gives me an outlet where I can be with myself, by myself. No one can interrupt me and I can mentally file away my thoughts and worries, organise and plan the rest of the day and return home always feeling positive.’

I immediately put the book down and said hesitantly to my husband, ‘I feel like going for a jog.’ Expertly disguising the shock, he encouraged me to go RIGHT NOW – ‘You’ll probably never feel like going again!’ So I did. I just ran out the door and down the street, without getting changed or any of that palaver. I honestly thought I would only get a few metres down the road and have to stop, but – miraculously – I kept going. Admittedly it was only for about four or five minutes, until I returned home after running to the end of my street, around another cul-de-sac and back, but during that five minutes no one asked me for juice or vomited on me. I was hooked.

The next day I ran a little bit further, and a couple of days after that I ran/walked all the way to the dairy and back. I’m on a roll. I’m not aiming to run a marathon or even put any expectations on myself of a regular, structured routine; all I’m trying to do is keep going and keep enjoying it. I think it’s because of this that I actually want to do it. It’s not a chore; it’s time out, with healthy benefits to boot. I even tried running to the park with both kids in the pram, but my toddler kept yelling, ‘Too fast! Too fast, Mummy!’ which was slightly offputting (and a bit of an over-reaction – my jog is only very slightly faster than a walk).

I mentioned this new jogging thing to a good friend of mine, who immediately jumped on board and said she’d come with me once a week. Now we have a regular catch-up every Sunday at 5pm, and whether we walk or jog, we’re exercising our bodies and buoying up our souls. Magic.

And it’s FREE! 'All you have to do is doodly do it...'

Walking on water

Riding high on the buzz of last week’s musical experience, I looked for something physical to do to in order to use up some of this excited energy. Out of the blue came an email from a friend who owns some paddleboards, asking if I’d like to have a go. Yes, I sure would, replied I, so on Wednesday night my husband and I cruised on down to the Pt Chev boat club and met said friend and her husband, and my mum, who had agreed to come along to look after the kids.


Those of you who have the pleasure of frequently driving the length of the North-Western motorway between Te Atatu and Pt Chevalier will be familiar with the sight of this activity, but I may need to enlighten others. Quite simply, it involves standing on what looks like a wide surfboard and paddling your way through the water. I first encountered paddleboarding in Raglan, where we spied a lone vertical surfer in the rolling waves. He looked so steady and calm in comparison to the surfers; a graceful giraffe amongst darting lizards. I’ve always wanted to be a giraffe.

Apparently there was some kind of paddleboarding evening going on at the boat club, so when we saw a couple of people receiving what appeared to be a casual lesson, my friend encouraged me to go and listen in. I boldly rocked on up, and there followed a rather awkward exchange between myself and the man who turned out to be a professional tutor who was giving a private lesson – nothing at all to do with the boat club evening. He said I could listen in anyway, so I did, probably not as embarrassed as I perhaps should have been. I picked up a few good pointers and went merrily on my way.

I was taught to start out by kneeling on the board, and to stand up only when I felt good and ready. Standing up wasn’t too difficult, even in the face of the (very slightly) choppy water. Once I was up, I was away, paddling in short strokes on either side of the board. It’s a great full-body workout – your core and your legs are working hard at keeping balance, and your arms are pulling/pushing you through the water. I didn't even fall in.

It’s an incredibly peaceful activity. You glide along the surface of the sea with the water gently lapping over your toes, while the sun warms your back and glistens on the water. When you’re paddling into the wind you have to work a bit harder, but the reward comes when you’re on your way back – you can just stop paddling and let the water pull you along. I was walking on water, much like Jesus.

I have been itching to get back on the board ever since. Every time I see the water I think about what it would be like to get out there on the paddleboard in these conditions. I have even imagined paddleboarding at night, which I imagine would be even more peaceful (if slightly dangerous). I guess you could say that I have caught the bug.