Turkey Stuffing

People often ask what the typical Christmas meal in Venezuela is. I have a straightforward answer which is hallacas, pan de jamón and other bits, all of course very traditional and full of fusion and authenticity. But I didn’t have the most culturally traditional upbringing, didn’t I? So our Christmas’s (Eve) meal also incorporated a turkey which at my dad’s house followed a Syrian-style stuffing recipe inherited from my half Armenian grandmother and which I have consistently changed and adapted over the years I have embraced my Britishness whilst also responding to whatever spice and dried fruit selection I have in the kitchen cupboard. This year it was particularly tasty, earning a well deserved place in my little blog’s index and hopefully our memory of one of the cosiest and most intimate Christmas. It’s interesting to think how in appearance it was only the four of us at home this time, but our meal linked us to a companionship, stories and family bonds so we were never (be) really alone. 

Irish fruit cake

 

I am an advocate of detail and small gestures of appreciation. I believe they make life much more enjoyable and meaningful and it’s what I encourage people to look out for at times when hopelessness prevails. Little evidence that we care and matter, to our loved ones, yes, of course, but to others who might not tell us they do, but which gestures that speak for themselves. 

This is a little tribute to kindness, personified by the lady who looks after the staff room at my workplace, making that little break extra special thanks to her generosity. There, Thursday at 10.57am, second to last week of one of the most overwhelming terms, generosity awaits in the shape of a homemade Irish fruit cake and a printed recipe to share upon request. Thanks Liz, hopefully you skipped the whiskey bit! 

Pancake Bake Tray

Albeit chaotic, I morbidly enjoy term time, week-day breakfasts at home. It’s the only meal we have together as a family at home and although it can take much energy sometimes, I like to make it extra special for everyone. I lay out the table, light out candles and often have calm music in the background (possibly as a strategy to quiet down the sibling rivalry). I like our kids to go to school in the morning feeling fulfilled and worthy and, following my Syrian grandma’s feeding initiatives, the kitchen provides the a good base to do so, acknowledging, as a good the good psychotherapist I believe I am, all the  associated metaphors. 

This baked pancake is proving to be a favourite, specially when time is limited and we can’t do them in the more traditional way. The little ones ‘frost’ them with cream cheese whilst we like them with avocado or sauté mushrooms on the side. Enjoy!

Mango and Pear Autumn Jam

The autumn is a season filled with incomparable nostalgic beauty. An opportunity to contemplate and appreciate endings in a way in which we don’t necessarily give ourselves the moral permission to do so, albeit the multiple invitations life provides us with. Nature offers death an exquisite disguise, an embellished attire to pain and the acceptance of time passing, resistanceless. 

We paused in September to let change be and we celebrated it with the simplicity of homemade fruit jam over freshly baked brioche, seasonal figs and some poetry. Enjoy! 

Sunshine Cookies

The solitude of my teenage years invited me to establish other types of connections, lasting and loyal, that would allow me to develop a sense of belonging. The garden was always a safe and containing refuge, and there, I learned to observe, contemplate, dream, and hope. Then, over time, I began to mark moments of passage and, in a way, celebrate ancestral traditions, whose magic gifted me precisely with an unparalleled and unbreakable bond that filled me also with an invaluable sense of gratitude that I still carry with me. I do my best to pass that on to my kids so they know that nature, alongside faith, can also be their ever-loyal companion, across time, space, and land. 

We've marked the summer solstice this year by crafting a series of light catchers and baking what we decided to call sunshine cookies, filled with a lemon curd heart. I hope they too bring you a mindful moment to absorb the last stretch of the summer.

Courgette and Burrata Carpaccio

There is no harm in recognising one’s qualities and giving ourselves the credit we deserve. I certainly encourage my patients to celebrate everyday achievements but often self-esteem, shame and perceived external judgement gets in the way. 

We are not in the best financial position right and there are a number of things we have had to deprive ourselves from. Frustration has been an unwelcome guest that I have now learnt to evict and not feed, inviting in its place a flourishing creativity, who nurtures me with its presence. I treated my husband and to a recreation of an appetising and seductive meal we can’t afford beyond our garden. This recipe is a celebration of our resilience and the hard work we do. I hope it brings opens the door to possibility and hope, always keen to come in. Enjoy! 

Inspired by Dolce Vita 

Ocean Butter Cookies

As I grow in motherhood I’ve noticed my interests have resurfaced strongly. I am constantly brought back to my own childhood to reconnect with the curiosity of those early years and the enjoyment of simple pleasures. I remember when I started advocating for causes that I valued and cared about such as endangered animals and preserving the planet and that I then placed let them go down the priority ladder as I entered other stages of life. 

We celebrated World Oceans Day for the first time this year as a family. The Maritime Museum hosted wonderful events perfectly curated for us to engage, learn and see the oceans with new goggles. It was moving to see the kids immersed in awareness and to witness the planting of a seed that I will make sure grows passionately, holding on tight to our our sailing boat. 

These cookies we made to mark the occasion, as an attempt to replicate coral reefs and hence bring awareness and think about how to reduce, as a family, our carbon footprint. 

Enjoy!

Pizza Chips

I thought it would be a long time before my 5-year-old son debuted a recipe in the kitchen and would enthusiastically asked me to post it on this blog.

This term his class went on a learning journey around Italy. He enjoyed discovering how the barrier reef is the size of the boot-shaped country, how the Mona Lisa was stollen from her French custodians (by an Italian thief!) how he is still too young to climb up the Tower of Pisa and how to transform pitta bread into pizza chips (sorry Italy for every word keeping that last sentence together!). 

Here goes this memory of him running out of spring camp, greasy paper bag in hand and chip straight into my mouth, to prevent me from attempting a word. Love in a bite. Enjoy! 

 

Liptauer or Austrian Cheese Spread

The nature of my profession, albeit rewarding it can be also emotionally withdrawing. I have to consistently and carefully nurture and look after myself to be able to successfully separate from the sorrows and dejections that stop others from enjoying a fulfilling and grateful life.

To counterbalance the nature of my profession I am intuitively drawn to the mountains, where I peacefully heal, reenergise and recover from it all. 

This recipe is from our latest retreat. An Austrian spread to enjoy on a slice of freshly baked bread, a glass of wine and long distance memories of new-coming spring air. 

Honey Cake

Motherhood certainly pushed me out of any form of structure and routine I furiously held myself accountable for. It brought many other practices, some of which I madly treasure as I know that alongside childhood, they are temporary. The big nostalgic in me is already grieving the inevitable alteration to the composition of images that shape our family life.

My top pick at the moment is Friday afternoons: ‘under the sea’ jigsaw puzzle scattered on a wobbly table at the local bakery, two large ‘babyccinos’ with red and white stripes straws from our indulgent barista, oat flat white and Braeburn apple in (my) hand, and two pricey bite size treats, including my two -and-a-half year old seasonal favourite, the honey infused mini cake, which she deflowers with determination and carefully bites, leaving just the leftover icing-less base (a love token for daddy). 

So this is my gratitude recipe for the end of the week ritual. A memory bite size is never going to be enough so here is a whole cake to remember. Enjoy! 

Breakfast Omelette

Cooking will always be an ongoing journey of discovery and amazement. I’ve collected specialist books, carefully selected and filed articles, followed blogs and magazines, photographed menus, and so on. But I never expected a cartoon to be my learning source for omelet perfection. Hey Duggee, the big friendly dog and the Squirrels gave me the inspiration and skills to provide my little ones with the simplest, yet delicious breakfast choice. I embrace my well-deserved ‘omelette badge’ without shame, so please don’t even read my badly written recipe, just watch the episode and have a little laugh. Hope that after this, the kids around you also claim none makes better omelets than you. Enjoy! 

Chicken and Blackbean Stew

Being a mum has helped flourished my creativity in the most unexpected ways. Every morning whilst we cycle to school, my son demands a story, something new and exciting for me to come up with and end happily ever after before we say goodbye. We live 10 min away from the school.  He gives me a character and from there we take off. I am obliged to master the art of improvisation! Or perhaps it's his subtle avoidance of any form of interrogation... clever boy!

My daughter, on the other hand, finds songs soothing.. The perfect example of my developed mothering performing skills are those lyrics I urgently compose when anticipating an emotional outburst! Impromptu distraction... A degree in drama and music to add on my CV. The closest I get to the stage these days. 

How I wish I could say the same about my cooking skills, which are far from improving. That would bring us all much more joy, but time forbids, and I don't resist it (anymore).  Looking back at this blog I could see how I underestimated that privilege, a precious commodity. I try not to dwell much about it and find refuge on where creativity has been transferred. I am grateful for the blog as it has become a compilation of memories and recipes that we often trust, become family favourites, and now cook together. This is why I feel it’s important to continue adding to it and help it grow alongside my little ones, to make it an ongoing memory of some sort and to perhaps reflect and give myself credit for coming up with special dishes here and there, despite thinking that time was no longer beside me. 

 

I won't probably remember the multiple little hedgehog adventures, the entrepreneur puppy that became the most famous tailor in the forest, the baby dragon that found his castle.. those we enjoyed and left on the road.. but I will remember how it felt to tell them and I will remember looking behind to rush him to speed up and find that joyful smile. 

And I also want to remember those recipes, simple and humble, that were a success, those they actually tried without bribery, those that did not need a pasta takeover and those that I want to make again, specially when not having the time to improvise. This blackbean stew is definitely one of those. Enjoy!