I woke up this morning to another beautiful winter’s day in Edinburgh. I woke slowly, my warm bed, purring cats, the sun streaming through the slats in my blinds, and delicious Greek food last night had led to me dreaming of sitting with a glass of wine in a white washed vine covered taverna. I was perched high above a rocky beach, sunglasses propped up on my head, book in hand, looking out over a blue ocean. No wonder I didn’t want to wake up.
As I left the restaurant last night I wracked my brain trying to remember how to say goodnight, Yassa, I had remembered, as I raised my glass and said yassu in reply. Sadly I only remembered kali nichta as I put my hood up against the rain. I used to speak conversational Greek, honed from years of family holidays spent on a scooter bombing along back roads of island after island. From Corfu, to Zante, from Aegina to Poros, Paros, Antiparos, Andros, Tinos, Thassos… The fear of flying off was balanced by the fear of running out of petrol yet again, miles from anywhere.
…or maybe it was years of honing my chat up line on the beach with the cute Greek boys.
S’agapo. M’agapas? (I love you, do you love me?)
I still prefer kalamata olives, I cook with Greek olive oil, and I even grew to like sharp spiky retsina and mythos beer. I love dolmades, beef stifado with cinnamon, spanakopita, and bread to dip in taramosalata and tzatziki. Greek food, along with that of its neighbour Turkey, will always taste like holiday to me.
My last holiday to Greece was a disaster. A month after the LTE had walked out I was to spend a week en famille in a villa onCorfu. Greecewas still the same, the vines, the cats, the sleepy old men outside the post office, the bobbing boats, the cheesy waiters, but I was depressed, sad, ashamed. I don’t remember the sunshine, just bleak, lonely days.
Now 5 years later I am going back, this time to the home of Corelli and Pelagia, to a villa in Pessada on the Island ofKefalonia. We will hire a scooter, bomb around the island again and sit in taverna after tavern under those vines…and then lay by the pool. Heaven. Time to wipe away those lingering traces of the past, bring on the sun.
…does any country make you feel the same way as Greece does to me?
Miss S x
P.s If you want to visit Greece without leaving Edinburgh I’d highly recommend Edinburgh’s only Greek restaurant My Big Fat Greek Kitchen. Excellent yummy food, great atmosphere and friendly staff and they do takeaway too. This post is nothing to do with them, I just wanted to say how good it was.
Hello and welcome to another Food Friday, the weekly post where I try to eat, cook and do things housewifery in a harking back to the 1950s manner. Seriously, Food Friday is all about a recipe a week, good food, big portions and no faff. Past Food Friday recipes can be found via the recipe links at the top or here.
What is your take away of choice? Indian, Mexican, Chinese? Sadly, because of an allergy (intolerance?) to msg I have to, in the main, avoid Chinese food. Which I love – the msg is what makes sauces salty and sticky and oh so yummy.
However, having made the discovery that if you step beyond the realms of sushi and sashimi I’ve found Japanese food makes a great Friday night substitute and I have never looked back. We even treated the whole family to a Japanese buffet in Australia on Christmas Eve. It was fabulous and I am glad my sister loves Japanese food as much as me.
My favourite Japanese main course has to be tonkatsu – deep fried pork cutlets with an omelette on top, or ashamedly, I also the Wagamama version of katsu curry, but teriyaki chicken comes a close third.
This was the first sticky Japanese sauce and I must admit I was a bit nervous and almost cheated with this one at the last minute, but I preserved and it turned out pretty well. Although I’d recommend munching this all at the same time, as unfortunately the sauce turned a bit jelly like the next day – although that could have been me being a bit heavy handed with the cornflower!
Teriyaki chicken with stir fried vegetables
You will need:
- Boneless chicken thighs (if you are using a slow cooker, breast if not) I used a pack of 5/6
- Sugar
- Soy sauce
- Ground ginger
- Black pepper
- Garlic, powder or crushed
- Cornflour
- noodles
- vergetables to stir fry
To make the sauce: mix together
Sugar – half a cup
soy sauce – half a cup
cider vinegar – 3 tablespoons
ground ginger – a teaspoon
Garlic – a teaspoon or powder or squished
Lots of ground pepper
- Top up the mixture with water so that it covers the chicken, I used a couple of cups.
- Cook on a low heat in a slow cooker for 7/8 hours or in a pan until the chicken is cooked through.
To finish:
- Remove the sauce from the chicken and thicken with cornflower
- Serve with stir fried vegetable and noodles of your choice.
Easy peasy and really tasty. Enjoy!
Miss S x
After I apologised at the beginning of my last wedding-ish-engagement-type post and well, you all reassured me, I am giving up on worrying about what you all think. After all this is blog, my life, sugary crap and all. So, despite the risk of making you all want to puke on a regular basis, The Mr + Mrs Smidge Wedding is going to become a semi-weekly feature.
It is going to be contained tho, as I am going to be taking part in Wedding Wednesday’s hosted by Something Charming. So yeah, avoid Wednesday’s from now on if you don’t give a sh1t about flowers, venues or breakdowns in communication.
Actually I have no idea why I am explaining myself about this one, as it was never going to be long before the Smidge wedding became a feature of this blog. I am the girl who started her pinterest board the night she got engaged after all.
However, I am also the girl who has already had her first mini-meltdown over the wedding, even before the date or the venue has been set, at the very scary thought of standing in front of 150 people I really don’t know very well.
(My family (and friends) is tiny. B’s isn’t)
It was a meltdown that had me ranting about every little tiny thing and almost called off the whole thing before it had even got off the ground. It solicited a very grovelling apology.
Yes, I am the bride who is petrified of being a bride.
It is all starting very well isn’t it?
Smidgezilla xx
P.s pop over to pinterest where I have just pinned some very lovely but out of my price league dresses. A girl can dream can’t she?
“I’m joining a gym tonight, it is ok though as it is a gym dressed up as a spa and therefore not scary…”
Right before I went on holiday to Australia I was at my heaviest/biggest ever. I was bulging over the top of my clothes; nothing was fitting correctly any more. I wasn’t fat (I am tiny, I admit) but I was no longer happy with myself, I no longer felt sexy, my confidence was shot to pieces. Even if everyone else still thinks you look great, mentally this is no place to be. It was time to bite the bullet – exercise needed to enter my life.
However, I might be all bravado over on Twitter, but in reality I am still scared, petrified even. I’ll be honest with you; I have never ever considered joining a gym before and this is why:
- communal changing rooms. It is not the changing that bothers me; it the opportunities for humiliation as you show yourself up trying to put your bra on under your dress whilst not revealing your spotty knickers. It pisses me off that everyone around me is so much better at communal changing room aerobics than I am. Plus I hate having to make cheery conversation. Please do not talk to me whilst I wresting with my bra.
- swimming pool floors. They make me feel a bit sick; people wear flip flops for a reason. Do they clean these flip flops before they enter the gym every time? I doubt it. Loose plasters, athletes foot, craggy toe nails, blurghhhh. Sorry if you have now brought your lunch back up.
- running machines – seriously? A moving platform? Surely they are a health hazard; my sister gave her self a bloody nose once, why the hell would I risk that? I also cannot run more than 3k and I am liable to stop running at a second’s notice. Can you imagine me leaping off, arms akimbo and flailing to catch the person next to me? Well I can, it is not pretty.
- gyms are sticky and sweaty, and the pool is freezing cold. Now whilst I love a bit of hot/cold steam, swim, sauna, spa, freezing shower therapy (ill pass at the water bucket over head) but I do it because I choose to, not involuntarily.
- leering/looking/being appraised. I do not like being looked at at the best of times – I am not a confident, centre of attention person as long term readers will know well – and walking around practically naked in front of other people I not something I enjoy. It is not just the old men though, but also the fit and supple young men and women that frequent gyms – please stop appraising my body compared to yours, I do not go to the gym for a competition.
- gym bores. We all know one. It might be a grunter, or a ‘got to keep myself in the game’ chanter or just the people who advertise proudly how far they have run that week, or how many weights they have bench pressed. Whilst, competition, training, doing something for your self is all well and good, but just like having a big house, a flash car or a big salary, we do not need your ‘dedication’ shoved in our faces. Some of us are beginners and will never get your ‘motivation’. So Shhhhh already.
So, yeah, gym’s are so not for me. But a spa? Well, that’s different. A spa with a stainless steel pool, with a sauna, tropicarium (?!) steam room and jacuzzi. With hairdryers and posh products in the showers. That does zumba and circuits (the only classes I like), that has white towelling robes and a membership that offers discounts on massages and facials and a free personal training session a month (gah). A spa that offers free guest passes and discounted hotel stays.
That’ll be the fabulous Scotsman Spa. Not a gym and therefore something completely different.
Honestly. Wish me luck. Anyone got any suggestions on how to make going to the gym better? Any tips for a newbie?
Miss S x
P.s the Scotsman Spa has no relationship with this post.