I have of late, wherefore I know not...lost my cooking mojo.

I seem to be channelling my inner Hamlet at the minute with these post headlines. It must be my education coming back to haunt me although maybe I should have paid more attention in home-economics as these past few weeks my abilities in the kitchen have taken a knock or two. I've gone from (self proclaimed) kitchen diva to kitchen disaster in the time it took to realise that grown-ups at work actually have conversations and don't just say 'Please can I have' swiftly followed by 'Why?' every five minutes. Perhaps I am still reeling from the shock and when I get my balance back so the cooking mojo will return.

Big tall hubby and I still enjoy monthly £10 dinner dates, this month it was my turn to cook and I set out determined to be Mrs Organised and deliver a delicious taste sensation in three easy courses despite it being on a Friday and me not getting home from work till gone six. Attending the girl-guides all those years ago hasn't been wasted on me, oh no, I can be prepared with the best of them. So Wednesday I'm planning a menu, loosely around an Andalusian theme, Thursday I begin to get things prepped. We're starting with Gazpacho, which would have been fine but for the fact the blender broke.The resulting food processed soup lacks that, smoothness, the velvety touch, but I ploughed ahead with it anyway. Then I attempted the pudding, a mango tatin, which went horribly wrong not once but twice. Second time around I was too tired to care and plonked it on a plate hoping lashings of ice-cream would disguise the burnt-caramel top.

The real Gazpacho - look at the glossy liquid in that glass!

Friday arrives and in a crazy, 'ooh I've got a paycheck' frenzy I decided to make an extra course (clearly flaunting the £10 rule) of dates wrapped in bacon. Sadly the balsamic reduction goes the same way as the mango tatin. So we're 'enjoying' and I use the term loosely, burnt appetisers followed by grainy lumpy soup for starters.Thank heavens for Sainsbury's special offer on Rioja!

Things start to look up with the main, polenta crusted pork with a chili buttered rice and green beans (thank you Delicious Magazine for that). That we wolf down all smiles. Although, by this point it could be the Rioja kicking in. Then comes the dessert, with mangoes so overcooked they give rubber a run for its money. You could have tiled roofs with them, I swear. Hubby, in a bid to cheer me up announces the pastry 'is lovely and goes well with the cream'. Much to his amazement this throws me further into a foodie-funk - I bought the pastry ready made - the only edible bit of the whole dessert was not from my own fair hand. Sigh. Abandoning culinary delights for coffee and rum is a much wiser move and ensures we finish our date with a flourish. These things are for the fun, not the food, I remind myself; there is more than one sort of mojo out there...

Still, there is a summer fete coming up and I'm down to bake a cake...please sir, can I have my mojo back now?

Good times aren't hard to find

You know the annoying credit card ad on TV which shows you someone spending a fortune to 'bond' with a family member before declaring the whole thing 'priceless', well they got one bit right. Time with people you care for is totally priceless. The crucial point the ad misses is that because time with such people is invaluable then you don't need to spend a king's ransom to enjoy a few hours with them. Some aspects of life are not for buying. I will now climb down from my soap box in a ladylike way.

It came to mind because we've just had a lovely weekend spent with friends and family and while it didn't come for free we certainly didn't need to crack into the credit cards to make it happen. All it cost really was a bit of organisation and commitment. First we had family round for dinner; there's only one set close enough to 'pop round' for dinner. You can't really call a 300 mile or 800 mile round trip 'popping' can you? But with work, kids and DIY those of us down south find it hard to pop anywhere in synch despite living 10 miles away from each other. So dinner was an event. We've had a few of these events this year. It's the plan; socialise at home, cook lavish 4/5 course dinners and go the whole hog with menu's and place names. I keep a menu from each and they'll be going into my scrap book (the year we ate - I'll call this section in the ongoing saga of life.) Maybe I'm hoping that one day I'll be a famous author and these scrapbooks will be lovingly held in a museum. More likely I'll be scrutinizing them in the old people's home wondering what it's all about; but hey I prefer option one.

Despite spending a day and a half cooking  like a loon it was worth the effort; we valiantly stayed up till midnight before confessing en-mass to being shattered and good for nothing; certainly not Pictionary which had been the plan post dinner. We even abandoned the rum - imagine! Another perk of the lavish dinner party is left overs. I say lavish but it is more about the scrumptiousness of the food than expensive ingredients; so tonight we're having steak chili in tortillas and chocolate mole tart for pud; not fancy but tasty. I love leftovers.

Chocolate, spices and sweet temptation on a plate...

There were no leftovers from our catch up with friends the day after though; the downside of not being the cook. Many moons ago we lived in London and were lucky enough to find the most amazing group of locals who we gelled with; for many years we socialised with each other several times a week. This was BC of course when nipping to the pub didn't involve UN levels of negotiation. And Gipsy Hill is an area awash with good pubs and restaurants for DINKIES to wallow in; it would have been rude not to. These days few of us remain DINKIES but we do remain friends. For the first time our new child-focused life collided with our old footloose and fancy free life as we took the small ones along for the reunion. So weird to hold my small boy's hand while wandering past pubs I'd staggered out of almost a decade before. But our old favourite restaurant Lorenzo's (http://www.lorenzo.uk.com/)did not let us down; all the children were catered for and all the adults ordered wine and old faves from the menu. Lunch lasted three hours but it felt like minutes and when the bill came we all smiled. Yup, Lorenzo's is still great value for money and our friends are still great friends. In some cases thousands of miles usually separate us but you wouldn't have guessed from the banter round the table.

The wonderful Lorenzo's for tasty Italian food that won't break the bank

With so much going on in the world that is sad, grim or plain horrible at the moment I wanted to offer up a post that celebrated the simple pleasures of spending time with good people. It need not cost the earth but it is most certainly priceless. 

One for the road

A road trip can be a wonderful thing. Open roads, comfy leather seats, good tunes on the stereo, junk food and lazy banter; cruising along life's highway with no rush or fuss. We've had many a happy time on four wheels; whether it be a road-trip proper or a long-haul motorway visit. That of course was BC. Yes, the days before children. Add two small ones to the mix and the romance of the long distance drive drops sharply. Tiny feet kicking at the back of your chair slightly detracts from the joy of scenery gazing; even when it is the glory of the peak district flying past the window.

Can't travel 500 miles up the country without eating though, most especially with children. Motorway services have never been a favourite but avoiding them is near impossible. Our plan has always been to scoff our own road-rubbish limiting service stops for caffeine fill-ups. With kids in tow the quality of our road-rubbish has gone up; now it even includes some of our five-a-day. Blimey. Fruit? In a car? What happened to the wotsits? But the caffeine fuel remains essential; as does the opportunity to let the kids run free. They don't take well to being strapped down for hours on end, especially toddler girl who announced 'I want to walk' in a very loud voice just hours into our mammoth drive up north. With impeccable timing she chose to drop off mere minutes before our service-stops which left her less that cheerful on the return to the car. By the time we reached Carlisle I was quite prepared to let her out for the much demanded 'walk' - all the way to Edinburgh. Thank god for strawberries. These red lovelies proved to be the saviour of our sanity. Both the wee ones happily munched them while we let the i-pod shuffle us up the motorway.

But there is one service stop that is a shining beacon of joy for harassed parents on the road; in fact it is a stopping-delight for anyone on wheels who happens to be up in the Lake District. Some know it as Tebay, others as West Morland, either name the place is the same. Why all service stops can't be like this I don't know. It is restful, the seats are comfy, it has ambiance (I know), it has a lake - with ducks, and a farm shop that sells snacks which although rather pricey does actually involve food and not cardboard or sawdust. What is more it has a children's play area that puts the sad little corners most services offer to shame. Hand crafted from real solid wood, beautifully decorated and ingeniously designed to allow maximum run about for wee legs in a small area the jewel in this play-zone crown is the CCTV that feeds directly to the tables and chairs in the adjacent parent zone (which also comes with kiddy sized tables and chairs so the wee ones can sit by you and pretend to be grown ups). Mummy and Daddy can upload on the coffee safe in the knowledge that the small ones are playing nicely.

The kid-zone is a treat for tiny sore legs and eyes

Even toddler girl didn't mind being woken up when she saw this place. And ever conscious of the spending - you get a second cup of coffee free if you take your empty cup up. Nice touch. I heart this place big time. Service station of the century I say. If you are going up north then schedule this place in - you will not regret it. On a budget it ticks every box; reasonable priced coffee and pleasant facilities. If you have the cash to splash then there are so many goodies on offer here you will pop with spending pleasure.

The gorgeous Tebay Services; makes the rest look amateur

As for the rest of the services; blah and double blah. Drink up and get out quick the car is way preferable. And so hot tips for in-car munchies on a budget include: the ubiquitous sandwich (cut into dinky squares), cheese chunks, strawberries (oh yes), bananas, little sausages and mini donuts (way less mess that biscuits). This finger food is easy to make, quick to scoff and very handy for passing to backseat passengers too wee to be trusted with their own nibbles. All that food combined with the coffee stops and a good soundtrack, why it was almost like a car trip BC. Keep that motor running...

festivities galore

It is that time of year isn't it when folks get festive and frolicky. Every which way you turn there is a party, gathering or get together. Round our place things are triply festive focussed with not one but two birthdays and the visit from the man in red. Throw in xmas social parties and it is all cakes, booze and bad food as far as the eye can see. That healthy eating regime? Ah yes, a fond memory. Bank balance - let us not dwell where accountants fear to tally. Close eyes, hide scales and hunker down till January. That's what I'm doing. Although with this belly I can give Santa a run for his money. Ho-ho-ho. I'm crying on the inside. Well, snuffling. I may need a comfort chocolate. Quick put on a festive weepy so it can all come out. Or better yet a fab festive celebrity work out dvd. What is it with the celebs and work outs? Like it isn't enough they force themselves to live on twigs and spend twenty hours a day crunching flab and crushing abs they have to inflict their body wisdom onto us. And at Christmas no less? The cheek! Pass the mince pies nurse please.

Wee boy was first up with the Dec parties, hosting his third birthday in the pub. Cancel that call to the social care unit - we hired the function room. Two nights in a row we cooked and created in the kitchen till way past the witching hour making sure all was ready for his big day. He wanted a tractor cake - with a trailer no less - so a tractor is what he got. Took some sculpting with the butter cream icing I can tell you. For all mums wondering how to entertain wee ones who are too young to get party games proper but too old to be happy with a chew stick I can highly recommend the pinata. We got the wee man a guitar one as didn't want the moral ambiguity of encouraging him to bash an animal till it bursts. Ah the glee they attacked that poor guitar with would have Pete Townsend blushing with pride. Although giving 3 year olds a chair leg and letting them loose was not the wisest move at first - rules were swiftly established. Cancel that 999 call. Pinata burst, sweeties exploded to freedom, very happy children followed.

Tomorrow will be my turn. The mummies have formed a collective for our own 'staff Christmas party', well when you work from home ain't no one gonna do it for ya. This too will kick off in a pub, but in the adults only proper grown ups section where consumption of booze is encouraged, nay celebrated. We don't plan on bashing anything unless it's a mugger on the way home with our handbag. But a few drinks, dinner, cocktails later and child free banter will bring the perfect twinkle to the festive build up. Am I excited? Oh ya mama I am busting at the seams for bit of proper girly social frivolity. Out on the town with big tall hubby is all well and good but a night on the tiles with the ladies is what every woman needs once in a while. Make mine a double and see you for bacon sarnies when the sun comes up.

Before the hangover has a chance to subside it'll be big tall hubby's turn to raise a glass to 38 and not a few days after that we'll be toasting the arrival of Santa down the chimney up in bonny Scotland. But that's a blog for another day. Eat well, drink up and party down. And hang the expense, it's Christmas.

On the flipside

Toddler boy has been a dream on the food front. From baguette to broccoli, squash to spaghetti he would eat it if I cooked it. Down the local playgroup I was the annoying mother declaring, "oh mine will eat anything, yes even vegetables", while trying to tone the smugness down from a modest grin to a manageable smile. They are still talking to me so I'm guessing I managed alright; either that or they knew what was coming. If pride comes before a fall I've just tumbled down Everest. Someone has come in the night and swapped my compliant little man for a fussy faced food monster.

These last few weeks toddler boy's taste buds have revolted. All that passes his lips is now subject to the type of scrutiny that has tax evaders quaking. There is no hiding a bean behind a bit of pasta; he'll take it then spit the offending item out. And baby girl likes nothing better than to imitate her big brother; he doesn't eat it then neither will she. Double trouble. So what is off the menu...onions, courgette, mushroom, broccoli, cabbage...the list increases daily...nay hourly. Each and every meal time brings a new revelation and ramps up the horror for my inner chef.

off the menu..arggh

I've resorted to cunning measures to cram the goodness into them whether they like it or not. There is a delicious recipe for pasta sauce made from squash, with onions in there too - it tastes sweet and creamy - the perfect hiding place for veggies heading for toddler lips. Mind you, what works one day won't work the next. Oh I've learnt my lesson; no complacency here thanks.

And it isn't just the food groups he's particular about. Oh no. Let us not forget the grouping of the food on the plate. The potato mustn't touch the stew, beans on the left, fish fingers on the right etc. The ketchup (compulsory with all meals apart from the bowl of cereal in the morning and I fear it is only a matter of days before he demands it there too) has to be pooled neatly in the exact spot on the plate he indicates or all hell breaks loose. I swear a mad dictator could not be more demanding or persnickety. In a bid to allow him some sense of self - going on the premise that this flip in his behaviour is a developmental stage - please, please let it be so - I'm going along with some of this. Plus I do need him to eat something; if all his meals go in the bin with nothing 'till the next meal childhood obesity won't be an issue in this house.

Humbled I head towards another week of kitchen hit'n'miss. If all else fails we'll dig out the baked beans and bulk buy the fish fingers; at least that is two major food groups covered. And now in playgroup I can smile in empathy with the other mums who suffer the whims of toddler appetites; so much easier on the facial muscles. I could probably cut back on the anti-wrinkle cream thanks to this; ah a silver lining.

A liitle off the middle

If it isn't complicated enough trying to keep two small ones and big tall hubby well fed and chirpy without bringing down the wrath of Cameron and Co. on the state of our finances we've added a little extra challenge. Keeps things fresh doesn't it? And what is this challenge? To cook while doing the downward dog? Nope. Shopping only while wearing fluffy slipper booties and a smile? Nah. Although I do love my slipper booties and see no shame in sharing them with the world. See...

Cosy winter tootsie warmers

This is something we never ever do. Ever.

Shh and I'll whisper it...diet. Well I say diet, it is more of a cutting down exercise, trimming off the fat as it were. That dreaded phrase 'portion control' is coming into my kitchen on hushed feet. What torture is this? Actually portion control is fab, saves a fortune so long as we don't snackeroo. So far so good. No, it isn't a diet. Sensible eating fits the bill nicely. If you call it a diet all you want to do is eat. Munch, crunch, chew and nibble. So it is most definitely not a diet. The D word is banned henceforth.

Now you'd think eating less would cost less but not so. 'Tis probably why only the rich and famous can afford to be thin as age advances along with the waistline. This being sensible lark takes time and effort and its toll on the coffers. Wee ones need their food and their fat. Big ones need to reign it all in while they still have the chance. So we're juggling to avoid the jiggling. Thank heavens for booze I say! Cutting down on the nightly medicinal vino (the balm of most mothers post bed time) helps boost the purchase of 'healthier options'. I'm amazed anyone can afford to be veggie, it tots up.

Let's give it a few weeks and see how it goes, once I find a recipe that actually tastes as good as a full fat version then I'll whip it up here in a flash. Hope it isn't a long wait!

Viva la France

When embarking on the life of poverty stricken parents hubby and I devised a cunning plan to keep us in the land of happy couples...£10 dinner challenge night... a night of food, fun and where possible a bottle of wine. Just the two of us, the table all set, candles lit and some quality kid free time - if we're lucky.

All the supermarkets have this £10 deal, 2 courses and a bottle of plonk for ten quid - I say pah to that! Not for us pre-packaged same old same old. Oh no, we have to create a 2 or 3 course meal, with or without a bottle of plonk all within a £10 budget. Taking turns we cook up a storm for each other, spending a lovely afternoon in the kitchen while the other is on kid duty. Cookers and toddlers not being a happy combination.

So yesterday was my turn. And I went all French on his ass. We had onion soup (topped with the compulsory gruyere and french bread - top tip to stay on budget buy exactly the amount you need from a deli rather than buy the pack) followed by stuffed cabbage, with a grand finale of crepe suzette, all washed down with a bottle of bordeaux. Stuffed cabbage may not sound all that fab but honest to goodness it is. It oozes taste sensations with smoked bacon, pork, herbs, toms and pine nuts and looks well groovy served up at the table looking like a huge savoy cabbage but new and improved.

The rules are:

1. You can't spend more that £10
2. If you have ingredients in or can get them from your garden/allotment it doesn't count to the cost
3. It must be at least 2 courses
4. Nothing can be ready-made
5. You can't cheat by buying stuff you need a few days before to have in when it comes to the challenge cook-day
6. Basics like potatoes, carrots, onions don't count towards the cost unless they form the main element of your dish as they are usually in the house anyway
   

I came in at a grin inducing £9.59 - oh yes she's a winner this time.

Not only was the meal taste-tastic it was my big thankyou to hubby for being on perma-kid-duty these last 7 weeks while my broken elbow healed. Today sadly, alack, alay he is back at work. Still, at least he has scrummy leftovers for lunch.

Next time hubby promises me he's going all Eastern European to knock my French socks off...the game is afoot...