Eating Disorders.

                                                           

We are off to Spain in a couple of days time and already I am looking forward to catching up with neighbours and friends over leisurely lunches and dinners. When we were last in Spain we ate at a stylish Spanish restaurant and engaged with a young couple and their two little girls sat on a table beside us. The girls were aged two and four, both were wearing their 'Sunday best' matching outfits and sat throughout the entire meal without any distractions other than the meal they were sharing with their parents which included a variation of tapas. As I've said time and again, it is not unusual to see Spanish children dining quite happily with adults, mealtimes are very much a shared experience and I've yet to see a Spanish child have a separate meal (such as chicken nuggets) or a solitary meal.

We often overlook the psychology surrounding food, however, the more I study our relationship with eating, the more I see how it affects our mental characteristics and attitudes towards wider issues. This week has seen Baroness Bakewell making comments about anorexia which have caused a tidal wave of indignation and online vitriol. She commented that anorexia was the result of our obsession with being beautiful and thin and that in places where there was not enough food (such as Syrian refugee camps) eating orders don't exist.

Bakewell, like many of her (and my) generation, grew up with not being able to leave the table until you had finished everything on your plate. This seems such an old-fashioned concept now, particularly as most children in the UK don't even sit at a table to eat but just graze their way through finger foods unfettered.

Anorexia is but one of the many complex issues we have with food. Eating disorders often stem from anxiety and are often the only way, from a very young age, that we can exert control. Toddlers learn very quickly that they can get a reaction from adults by refusing to eat and so a pattern begins. In a 'normal' happy environment, most parents will deal with a few food related tantrums, however, if there are wider issues, young children can and often will, treat food as an emotional tool.

An example of this was my auntie Frances. Evacuated during the war as a small child she suffered from what would modernly be termed as 'separation anxiety.' Thrown into an alien environment, she was fed mainly on bread and jam, thus when she was returned to my grandparent's she refused to eat anything my grandmother prepared on two grounds, one as an emotional protest, (having felt rejected) the other because she had literally forgotten how to eat anything other than bread and jam!

Fortunately my grandmother navigated the emotional issues and Frances eventually returned to normal eating by being drawn back into her family which involved sitting and sharing proper meals together in an an act of love rather than being randomly handed the odd bit of bread and jam, however, far from being an act of vanity, Frances could have easily succumbed to anorexia by expressing her distress in an act of self-starvation.

                                My beautiful auntie Frances at my mother's wedding.

We seem to be circumspect in making a connection between food and the inner person. Eating habits are 'learned behaviours' they are not intuitive. Our early relationships with how and what we eat at home sticks with us into adulthood. By feeding our children ready meals and snacks we are facilitating this great chaotic democracy of allowing them to eat their way towards eating disorders.

And it is not just about the food we are feeding our children, even in very poor cultures, eating together is a bonding experience, there is an old Italian proverb which says: 'He who eats alone suffocates' children in the UK are often left to eat alone with only their mobiles and tablets for company.

A child's home should be a place of love and family time, however, the sunny uplands of childhood are being overshadowed by technology and isolation.

13 million people in the UK have health issues connected with food, that should surely tell us that we're going wrong somewhere? If we feed our children as we would feed our pets rather than spending some quality time sitting with them and encouraging them to try different foods, instead of using the lame excuse that they'll only eat chips/nuggets/crisps etc, we might resolve some of the serious mental issues connected with food. A bit of time, patience and love certainly worked for my grandmother with auntie Frances!

My friend Clarrie is currently trying different flavours with her baby Kadi as she did with her son Todd.

                                           A selection of freshly prepared vegetables

                                            Which seem to be going down very well!

                                    My son Bert rustling up a meal in his new home

If children are encouraged to cook and eat well it will invariably stay with them for the rest of their lives and beyond anything else is a wonderful social skill.

This next recipe was always a favourite of mine as a child because of the pineapple. I've always loved a combination of sweet and savoury and adding sweet ingredients to meals is a great way to broaden your children's teatime repertoire.

Gammon steak with pineapple

Recipe
1 gammon steak per person
1 can of pineapple rings
Knob of butter
For the adult version I add chilli flakes but it's not a good idea if your children aren't used to spices

Heat butter in a frying pan, add pineapple rings and a little juice, fry until caramelised

Set pineapple aside and in the same pan fry the gammon steaks for 3-4 minutes each side

Remove the steaks, add pineapple juice to the pan and reduce until you have a sticky syrup
Serve gammon steaks and pineapple with homemade chips and peas, pour the sticky sauce over the steaks

'If we wish to provide a beautiful, peaceful safe home for our children, we need healthy expanding roots that go deep into the ground. These roots are our routine, our nurturing, our structure.'
- Natasa Pantovic Nuit.

'Family life was and always will be the foundation of any civilisation.'
- Erin Pizzey.

Remember, life is irreplaceable! Spend time cooking and eating with your children while you can!

Love Donna xxxxxxxx

Life Before McDonald's.

                            Myself (on the left) and my friend Wendy Cooper aged 11 years old.

When I was a child, burgers didn't really feature in my diet with the exception of the rare visit to The Wimpy Bar. The first Wimpy Bar opened in the UK in 1954, we had a a Wimpy in my home town of Catford and my mother first took me there when I was around five years old. I remember it vividly because there were red curtains across the walls and I sat in anticipation of a puppet show. I don't remember being overly impressed with my burger which came in a bun with fried onions, however, I do remember being fascinated by the rum babas in the chiller cabinet.

The first McDonald's opened in 1974 in the UK not far from my home in South East England. My friend Wendy and I were eleven years old and were very excited one Saturday when we set off on the bus with our pocket money to have our first McDonald's meal.

I have to tell you that even back then I was a bit of a food snob, I hated everything about McDonald's, the soggy cheeseburger, the milkshake that was too thick to drink, and I laugh when I remember complaining to Wendy that there was no cutlery (a bit grandiose for an eleven year old.) I just didn't get the 'fast food' concept (I still don't) coming from a family which was half Italian, meals were long leisurely affairs, tables were laid with beautiful tablecloths, crockery and cutlery and the bright, noisy, plastic interior of McDonald's was an enigma to me.

Today there are over 33,000 McDonald's worldwide and they sell more than 75 hamburgers every second. Americans alone consume 1 billion pounds of beef at McDonald's in a year - that's five and a half million head of cattle. It's astonishing to think there was life before McWorld, as it's been coined, I suspect there are few children in the UK who haven't eaten McDonald's and many who simply can't live without it (even though the human race managed for centuries beforehand.)

I had to be in town early in the morning recently and was shocked to see the empty car park strewn with McDonald's rubbish. I think the whole concept of eating in the car is pretty disgusting, but to then just chuck your rubbish out of the window is despicable. Unfortunately the whole concept of fast food has created an attitude of greed and oafishness, not to mention a obesity epidemic.

In recent years I've taken to eating burgers (although not McDonald's) lots of gastro pubs now make homemade burgers and it's all become a bit trendy (rather like eating liver or pork belly.) But the burgers I enjoy most are my own homemade versions, I like to buy my meat from a butcher and I tend to opt for a 30% fat ratio to 70% lean meat, I always get my butcher to grind my meat and obviously I only buy outdoor- bred beef. Once you have the meat there are no end of ingredients you can add to your patty such as chillies, onions and herbs.

   It's always best to buy your meat from a reputable butcher who will grind it for you

Take mince and seperate into small handfuls, add chosen herbs and spices then roll meat into balls
With the palm of your hand, flatten and shape patties
Place on a baking tray (I line mine with greaseproof paper) and place under a hot grill for 3 minutes

Turn patties over and cook for a further 3 minutes
Add fried onions

Place in toasted brioche buns and enjoy.

'Let me ask you: who do you prefer, a clown organising your menu -with all due respect to Mr McDonald - or a chef? I do believe it's a very simple answer.'
- Jose Andres Puerta.

Love Donna xxxxxxx

The Pig.

                                                        The Pig Hotel Brockenhurst.

Glenn and I were very lucky to have received the wonderful Christmas gift of an overnight stay with dinner and breakfast at the gorgeous Pig Hotel, courtesy of our son Bert and his partner Holly.

The Pig had been on my wish list for some time, located in a beautiful historic building, once owned by the Bowes-Lyons, cousins of the Queen, the 17th-century building is set in 14 acres of secluded grounds, everything about it is grand, majestic and luxurious.

There was something quite mystical about The Pig on the day of our arrival, the weather was gloomy which added to the sense of drama as we swept up the drive. Inside there was a heady smell of wood smoke and at a glimpse we could see roaring log fires in the drawing room, library and bar.

We had the luxury of one of our own self contained pig huts, beyond the main house in the stable yard.

Our hut was divine, from the four-poster bed piled high with feather filled duvet and cushions, delicious crisp white linens, a bathroom replete with a 'monsoon' shower and a claw-footed, free-standing bath, to the Roberts radio tuned in to Radio 4 and the views overlooking the stunning countryside.

We spent a couple of leisurely hours getting ready for dinner before heading back to the main house. We decided to start our evening in the bar with a glass of champagne and some of the menus delicious 'piggy bits.'

                          Delicious saddleback crackling and homemade apple sauce

 The staff were all very welcoming and had a relaxed demeanour (no haughty waiters here!)

We were shown into the restaurant which by day is light and airy due to the stunning Victorian greenhouse attached to the old building which gives the room a garden-y feel and by night is transformed into something magical, the room was aglow with candles, the gentle flickering light reflected off the large greenhouse windows, the restaurant was full of people and the atmosphere felt informal yet intimate.

The owners call The Pig 'A restaurant with rooms' everything here is driven by the restaurant's chef, resident gardener and full time forager - as a result the menu boasts a 'literally picked this morning' section. There is a passion for 'responsible' produce, hence the menu title '25-mile menu' - 95 per cent of the ingredients come from less than 25 miles away. For me this was food heaven, I'm not impressed by modernist foams or fancy airs, but I do love fresh, honest, ingredients. I'll happily eat a basic 6€ menu del dia because it's honest home cooked food. The beauty of good quality ingredients seems to be lost on us these days with so many restaurants serving nothing better than industrialised ballast. Although Glenn will happily eat a meal at our local Beefeater, he really appreciated the garden leaves (fresh from the ground that morning) the seed trays on our table filled with fresh herbs, the Pennington Farm beef sirloin that was as soft as butter, the meltingly rich artisan cheeses with homemade biscuits and rich chutney and the homemade custard tart with homemade tarragon ice cream. This type of dining experience was about our senses being startled into paying undivided attention to the moment, savouring flavours and textures as opposed to just filling our faces.

We accompanied our meal with a bottle of the hotel's own label wine which was delicious before retiring to the bar where a fireside seat had been reserved for us. The ambience was so relaxing and soothing we nestled into the comfy, squashy sofa to enjoy our liqueur coffees and take in the interesting portraits and artefacts.

After a heavenly nights sleep in our pig hut, we wended our way past the majestic oak trees and the log fire heated courtyard back to the main house.

The restaurant had yet again been transformed into a room laden with a banquet of homemade granola, bread, pastries and preserves. There were boil your own eggs, still warm from the chicken run outside and that was just for starters. Glenn opted for the kippers which are smoked on site whilst I went for the full piggy breakfast.

Unfortunately the weather wasn't conducive to a long post-prandial stroll which was a shame as there was so much to see. We did venture as far as the resident pigs and chickens and the walled garden.

                                                      I could get used to this lifestyle!

                                           My review of The Pig for Shorelines newspaper

'I do not think that when in a hotel you have to feel 'at home.' On the contrary, you have to get the feeling that you are definitely elsewhere.'
- Aurelio Vazquez Duran.

Love Donna xxxxxxx

Virtue Signalling.

                                                     My Mrs Angry forced smile look

Most readers will be familiar with my occasional ranting and whilst I try to stick to food related anecdotes and stories, I often go off-piste.

This next post isn't really a rant, more of an observation really, something I think about often which was hi-lighted in an article, written by journalist Sarah Vine, in a national paper this week.

I hadn't even come across the term 'virtue signalling' before, although I was well aware that lots of people subscribe to it.

We live in an age where we're all finding ways to let the world know how good and compassionate we are. 'Slebs' lead the way, the likes of Russell Brand (he of the lavish Indian wedding at the Aman-e-Khas luxury resort and the Taj Rambagh Palace Hotel,) has apparently gone away 'to  think' and 'to learn.' Although he's ranted on about us taking refugees into our 2 up-2 down homes, he clearly had no intention of taking his own advice and has completely gone off the radar.

Benedict Cumberbatch was another 'sleb' who treated theatre audiences to a tirade of political righteousness whilst playing Hamlet. They were told to donate their money to Syrian refugees, but fans were shocked after learning they are expected to fork out a staggering £3,000 a head to meet him at a Sherlocked convention in London (Cumberbatch plays Sherlock in the BBC drama.)

Social media is awash with people posturing as politically correct martyrs, I see dozens of tweets and posts on Facebook that are simply an exercise in self-congratulatory, sanctimonious indulgence. This is 'virtue signalling' and what most of these people don't do, is actually anything to help anyone!

How many people look in on their elderly neighbours or do a bit of volunteering for a charitable cause? I visited a care home for the elderly this week where staff were working 12 hour shifts for days at a time earning just over the basic wage. It's all well and good to wear a wristband indicating your support for some fashionable cause, but would you volunteer to help with feeding and toileting these vulnerable elderly people?

Virtue signalling is all about words, not deeds. It's so easy to turn on a computer and post something to bolster one's own ego, and it's also a great opportunity for the morality monitors to intimidate anyone who doesn't agree with their rhetoric. Have you noticed, the people who shout the loudest seem to be sitting on their computers, offering their words of wisdom as opposed to going out and getting their hands dirty. The problem is, the people who are the noisiest are diverting us from the neediest. It's commendable to tell people to take refugees into their homes - like Yvette Cooper and Nicola Sturgeon, (unfortunately neither of them actually have,) but if you're taking the moral high ground surely you should lead by example. The problem is we've lost sight of the mum down the road who has a special needs child and could do with a bit of support, the widower who sits on a park bench every day hoping someone will talk to him, the overstretched neighbourhood animal care centre that's desperate for volunteers....... By extending our hand to those closest in need we create a ripple effect and can also practice what we preach.

The way I see it is: until I'm ready to forgo some of the luxuries in my life, (by which I mean a comfortable home, meals out, nice clothes, holidays etc) and take in refugees or homeless people and share some of my comforts and riches, I shan't be dictating to others. I don't sit in my ivory tower offering vacuous platitudes and I rather wish the bleeding heart brigade would either follow through or shut up.

Anyway, this post isn't as random as it may seem. The other evening a very 'right on' friend of mine came for dinner and I was subjected to the usual political outpouring before we got on to the subject that she was off to see her Dr in Harley St the following day (the irony was totally lost on her.) I was forgiving enough to cook this delicious meal.....well, at least it kept her quiet!

Lobster and chips

Recipe
1 cooked lobster (defrost overnight if frozen)
125g butter
2 egg yolks
1 tsp white wine vinegar
Pinch of salt
Lemon juice
Cayenne pepper
Fresh parsley

To prepare the lobster, snap away the claws, using a sharp knife, cut the lobster in half
Lay the lobster cut side up and remove the meat
Crack the claws and remove the claw meat
Set aside

This was my first attempt at preparing a lobster and I was quite wary, you can YouTube it for easy to follow instructions (although I got into a bit of a mess)

To make the sauce
Melt butter in a saucepan, keep warm
Place egg yolks, vinegar and salt into a glass bowl that will fit over a pan of barely simmering water, whisk for 3-5 minutes
Remove from heat and gradually whisk in melted butter until you have a glossy sauce
Season with a squeeze of lemon juice and a dash of cayenne pepper
Place lobster pieces into sauce and return to heat to warm through for 2-3 minutes
Serve lobster with hand cut chips and a scattering of fresh parsley
You can also grate a little Parmesan cheese on the chips for added flavour

'Survival, it's selfish, it's dark, and we've always been a species willing to do anything to satisfy our needs. Individuals have morals. Mobs have appetites.'
- Rachel Caine.

Love Donna xxxxxxxxx

Mothering Sunday

                                         My beautiful mother Constance and I

My darling mother passed away eleven years ago and not a day goes by when I don't miss her. This coming Sunday is mother's day and as always I shall buy a bunch of flowers and place them beside the above photo in memory of my gorgeous mum. The photo is old and has been exposed to light but I treasure it dearly as it was the last photo taken of mum and I together.

Mother's day was originally called mothering Sunday as it was a Christian holiday when people returned to their mother church, commonly known as to have gone 'a-mothering'. This progressed into a day when domestic servants were given the day off to visit their mothers, it was often the only time whole families could gather together, usually servants were not given free days off. Children and young people in service would pick wild flowers en route home to give to their mothers.

Mother's day is still about honouring mother's, however, the simple token of flowers, and more importantly, time spent with our mum's, has been swallowed up by commercialism, nowadays every one jumps on the bandwagon, shops are awash with 'mother's day gifts and cards, and it has become the busiest day of the year for eateries all over the country, I have several friends who work in restaurants and they all dread the mass of people that descend on them on this particular day.

My mother's Italian heritage meant that she was a fantastic cook and I wish that I had written down more of her recipes for posterity. One of my absolute favourites was my mum's bread pudding, fresh from the oven and sprinkled with sugar it was heavenly! I've never tasted bread pudding that compares with my mum's.....ever!
I've googled recipes and looked in cookery books to no avail, I've never been able to emulate mums recipe. I know that mum used suet which none of the recipes I've read include, which is probably why the end result is dry and cakey as oppsed to wet and juicy. So I took the bull by the horns and blind baked a bread pudding using pure instinct as opposed to a recipe, and I cracked it! I ended up with mum's bread pudding.

Bread pudding

Recipe
A loaf of stale bread, crusts removed and broken into small pieces
1/2 pint of cold water
75g soft brown sugar
Half a cup of milk
50g suet
1 egg beaten
100g dried fruit: you can use raisins, currants or cranberries
1 teaspoon mixed spice

Preheat oven 180c/gas mark 4

Soak bread, drain and squeeze out excess water with your hands

Mix bread with the rest of ingredients

Put mixture into a greased baking tin

Bake for 30-40 minutes

Allow to cool slightly, slice and sprinkle with sugar

                                   

                                                          My beautiful mum

'Treat your mother with loving care,
You will only know her value when you see her empty chair'
-author unknown

Happy mother's day
Love Donna xxxxxxxx