The girl who could not cook...

I was the girl who could not cook. I went away to University, leaving home for the first time at 18 and I can genuinely state: I had never cooked one thing. I spent three years at University living on 'Crunchy Nut Cornflakes' and 'Danish Blue' cheese on rye bread (that's the Danish heritage kicking in). It's not that I had a bad relationship with food, I just had zero interest in cooking it. Luckily as a student I lived with friends who took me under their wing, but still my repertoire was limited. I was however always an ingredients junkie - I used to buy Parma Ham and mozzarella without really knowing what to do with it. My pasta dishes became legendary in their simplicity; pasta and one ingredient. That was it.

photograph by Aran from Canelle and Vanille

I met and married a man who cooks. I now realise this sort of man is a rare commodity. My husband cooks for real. He can make a decent meal out of not very much. He did a Home Economics A-level (for those unfamiliar with the British educational system this is a specialist level study you do at ages 16-18; that's early commitment to the culinary art!). Anyone who has ever stayed with us or come for dinner has been treated to his foodie expertise. The man can cook.

photograph by Aran from Canelle and Vanille

Meanwhile I managed to get through my twenties without cooking; I heated stuff up but had no clue about anything else. Even motherhood initially did not change this. The requirement to feed my child was met with the dreaded 'jarred food' - there you go I have confessed, yes I fed my first born on processed, shop-bought monstrosities. Then the second child came along, and with him some semblance of parental awareness and maturity. I became ensconced on the 'ice-cube' stage of motherhood and by this I mean the bizarre pursuit of pureeing fruits and vegetables and freezing them in ice-cube trays ready for a tiny mouth's consumption. I loved the ice-cube stage. To this day I swear that the process of pureeing everything from peaches to butternut squash taught me how food behaves when you cook it. It was a revelation.

I started to cook. I learned and created and now...well now I can cook. However the myth persists amongst those who know me well - that I am incapable. Everyone knows that he cooks and I just do the frippery that surrounds food; like laying the table and serving drinks. They seem surprised if I manage to put anything resembling a meal together! However as this weekend we are hosting a dinner party for 12, I think I will labour under the no-cooking illusion and let him take the reigns...

Here's what I think...

Quick fire: Here's what I think:

Ageing gracefully?
I wish I was entirely fine with this process. It's one of life's inevitabilites. Fighting it, ultimately doesn't work. There are elements of it that are life-affirming and wonderful; experience is beauty, but oh how I wish it just didn't happen. That it wasn't quite so brutal. My Mum, who is the ultimate role model for everything; she is AWESOME, has aged beautifully. She is at-one. I love and emulate that. And isn't this image just beautiful?

Shopping as favourite?
For me, nothing like going into a shop and seeing lots of things that make my heart go pitter-patter. I wish I wasn't quite so shallow and that the things that made me heart beat fast had more substance than a pretty dress. But that's how I am - have been the same since the age of 5 (but then it was pink and white candy-striped dungarees that caught my eye).

Should mothers work?
Whatever gets you through the day. Such a fiercely personal choice. First one must look at why mothers work - what is it that motivates them? From my observations on this, it's not all it seems; the motivations are wide, varied and unexpected. Understanding that choice must come first before any judgement is made about whether it's right or wrong.

The medical profession?
I have always had the utmost faith in the medical profession. I respect doctors enormously, in a similar way to lawyers. Clever, dedicated people. However in recent dealings with the medical (dental) profession I have been left wanting. How come they don't know all the answers? Have they not devoted years of study to finding out why something goes wrong with the human body? I am a specialist in my job - if someone asks me a question that I don't know the answer to, I go away and find out. I don't just send them away to cope with it. The older I get the more I find that there are few straight-forward answers in medicine. This bothers me.

Pushy parenting?
Should children be pushed academically and in, for example, sport? Should children be made to sit exams? I think, sometimes yes. Life has tests, why should we pretend in childhood that tests don't exist? We can help reduce the number of tests (I am speaking metaphorically about all tests children face; be they mathematics, getting through playtime, being in a school production, running a race) but at the end of the day, is it not better to prepare children to know how to deal with some pressure? The trick is not too much pressure and to not erode or deface the relationship they have with their parents by making success synonymous with unconditional love and respect. I have seen pushy parents in action and it's not pretty. Still working out how I feel about this one...

Cooking a meal from scratch every night?
Ready-made meals; what Jamie Oliver hates. I cook a fair amount, most nights I make a meal from fresh ingredients, from scratch. It is time-consuming and often I find it enormously tedious but I do it because it matters. I also periodically test my children on whether they know what a butternut squash looks like vs a chilli. I can't bear the thought that some children don't know what a potato is unless it comes in the form of chips. I think they have to see me cook; not just put a plastic packet in the oven.

images via are so happy

Going to bed at 8.30pm?
For adults, not children. I am all for it. For children, the earlier the better ;-)

Having the right shoes?
Yep, it does matter. To me.

Making a good cheese sauce?
I find the most important thing is to whisk the roux with the milk, briskly; a brisk whisk if you will. I also find that I do it with a smile on my face as I think (always) of my friend L who commented that her bottom wobbled when making a cheese sauce. I find the smile helps the consistency ;-)

...looks just like this my kitchen...go Gwyneth...

Things of beauty...

Happy Wednesday! I must admit the days are just rolling into each other at the moment as its school holidays. Bittersweet time on my hands - having lots of fun with the children but not getting much done in any other part of life. Oh well...

A little cheeky Parisien image...for Simone at The Bottom of the Ironing Basket...to say 'bon voyage' and thank you so much for your lovely little dedication. Its an absolute treat to be enjoying someone else's great post and to see your name in it, I got a sudden warm feeling of 'yey, hey that's me!'


Speaking of cheeky, I love this poster - have always been a fan of something to look at in the bathroom. And roll top baths....swoon...


I watched 'The Delicious Miss Dahl' last night and was utterly charmed by Sophie. The commentary was a delight: '..cook it til its jammy', with her pretty pale lemon Kitchenaid, divinely styled shabby kitchen and a great 80's nostalgia soundtrack. Loved it...and she is so pretty and nice. I'd quite like to be her friend; we could chat while she cooked and Jamie could play piano... ;-)


Still waiting for the weather to give a chance for outdoor dining...


Instead there is still alot of inside-loving...bed being my favourite ever place...


This is where we walked en famille on Bank Holiday Monday, near a village called Stoughton, where we stopped for a country pub lunch. It made me happy to be in England...I am not sure I could ever leave this place for long...


There is alot to look at in this picture, but my eye is still drawn to the artichoke lamp - I just adore them...


A pink tourmaline Pippa Small ring...


Another gorgeous image...from Korean Vogue...


Natalia Vodianova...this woman is a goddess in a trilby...


And whilst on the topic of dedications...this is a ruffle for Lucille at the Pink Pen Word Studio...if ruffles you like, her lovely blog has them in adundance :-)

The Scandinavian Cookbook

This is the most evocative cookbook I have ever owned. I grew up spending my summer and winter holidays with my Danish family, cousins and cousins of cousins almost too many to mention. I have the fondest, most sentimental memories of Denmark and mostly of the time spent at my Grandmother's house. She lived just outside of Copenhagen and was the best ever cook. She was one of those effortless cooks, using fruit and vegetables from the garden, creating the most extraordinary but traditional meals for us. My mum is just the same. So this book, its just like a memory fest for me of every childhood food we had there. The descriptions of the food and the photography in this book perfectly capture the Danish mood...oh and the recipes are quite good too ;-)

Beautiful Royal Copenhagen china. Each piece is hand-painted, so delicate...


Georg Jensen 'New York' cutlery...
Arne Jacobsen Stelton pieces...so Danish