awesomepants

Can’t live without purple Thursday

June 20, 2013 by Edlyn

Purple? Why purple?!

Purple. Like the colour. Why? Just because it’s the story of my life. Ask me how any girl-stuff related (MAKEUP) conversation with dudeface goes and my answer will forever be “purple”. I feel like I’ve got this Coldplay vibe all of a sudden. Allow me to elaborate a little more and if you don’t allow me, I’ll do it anyway. See that tiny little bar up there with “egeedee” in it? That’s me. Hello, thank you for stopping by and letting me elaborate.

I’m a girl. Right. In a world of high-heels, going to the bathroom in one large cloud of perfume, saying “soooo adorbs” to non-animal things and noticing the difference between red lipsticks and clump-proof mascara, I fall way, way, way behind. Do you see me? You don’t because, you know…I’m WAY behind. Pay attention. For example, getting married. I still have out-of-body experiences looking at pictures from my wedding. Nothing was more difficult for me than getting married. The whole princess aspect had me on edge all day and I wish that I could be the ideal bride but nyeahhh. It’s okay. I was never into that sort of stuff.

Maybe that’s why I wore a yellow wedding dress. Coming to that decision was easy. I knew I didn’t want to wear white. Apart from underwear, it never went with my personality. I checked with the groom since he was going to be standing next to me. Also, I knew there would be every possibility that he might have to explain this breakaway fashion statement (i.e. me) to his family. So I asked: “I’m wearing yellow.”

“You should wear lavender!” he said.

And right there, a template for a conversation we would have many times, was born.

Me: “Should I wear red lipstick?”

Not me: “I think you’d look better in some shade of purple.”

—————————–

Me: “Do you like my orange nail polish?”

Again, not me: “Why don’t you get something purple?”

—————————–

Purple. Purple. Purple.

—————————–

Me: “I like your pink shirt”

(: “It’s purple.”

So are these potatoes, boy. So are these potatoes.

Roasted purple rosemary potatoes

When I was just a wee lass working at my job, there were a lot of times I had to pretend to be busy. Shaheen’s blog fit those work fart voids very well. She had those tiny graphics (I loved!) for each section and her potato recipes were something I dreaded looking through at work. *hunger*. I went back to her webspace after last week while looking for potato recipes and gosh, she’s living the dream isn’t she? Purplefoodie, you’re pretty great and that’s why I re-made this recipe of yours as is. I just eliminated the pink peppercorns and hence, I’ll list my own set of quantities. They are all very adjustable. Thank you Purple Foodie, as always, for your purple inspiration.

Ingredients

370 gm/about 4 small purple potatoes
2 tbsp rosemary
3-4 garlic cloves, minced
Sea salt and pepper to taste
Lemon juice to squeeze over while serving

Preheat your oven to 450 degrees F, which in my kitchen takes 2 decades, by which time I’ve decided that I don’t ever want to wear red (or purple) lipstick. Prepare a baking sheet lined with foil and lightly greased with cooking spray or brushed with olive oil.

Boil the potatoes in salted water. Once they’re tender and you can pass a butter knife through them easily, take them off the stove and put them on the baking sheet. Mash them with a fork once or twice till they’re flat but still have their chunkiness in parts. Warm the garlic with the olive oil on the stove until it gets fragrant and then pour this over the potatoes. Sprinkle the rosemary over them next along with the sea salt and pepper.

Bake for 15 minutes and halfway through, turn over the potatoes. Continue baking until brown and crispy along the edges. Serve as a side with lemon juice squeeze all over the deliciousness. Okay then. Cook like a champ!

A perfect cure for the sickies

April 19, 2013 by Edlyn

Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.

– Ernestine Ulmer

Rum and raisin coconut ice-cream

It is best, if not ideal, to cure all illness with something out-of-the-realm-of what’s right. I fought my so-called beliefs to form this thought ever since I made this non-ice-cream ice-cream two days ago. Cold does not cure a cold. I know this. It’s been stamped into my consciousness since I was a wee lass and I’m sure I now carry the DNA strain that makes it so.

Forget it. I could tell Mr Superman he couldn’t have any but I couldn’t make him listen. My good intentions were lost and I’m led to believe they weren’t the best intentions after all. How can you fight ice-cream? It’s irrational! And it goes against all that’s good with this world.

Yes, I know. I am irrational. But the good? I will not fight the good. In a world like ours, the good is a pittance. I’m going to hoard it. Hoard it in the freezer and eat it at times we deserve it the most.

Ingredients

13.5 fl oz (400 ml) can of coconut milk (full fat: You’ll know it’s fatty if you shake the can and you can’t hear any sound)
2 tbsp cane sugar (or your sweetener of choice; modify quantity based on what you like best)
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/3 cup raisins
2 tbsp spiced (or plain) rum

In a tiny bowl that will fit raisins and rum, bring the two ingredients together. Soak the raisins in the rum for 3 hours to overnight. They will absorb the rum and start to look all weird and non-raisiny. I like it that way.

Pour the can of coconut milk into another bowl and mix it until the sugar dissolves. Add the vanilla extract to the coconut milk. Refrigerate this mix for the time it takes to soak the raisins. For me, that was 3 hours worth of waiting time. I died.

Pour the rum-raisin into coconut milk and then add it all to an ice-cream maker for 20 minutes. You can either freeze this now ice-cream for an hour or eat it directly. I ate it immediately because that’s how I roll.

Oh, oops. I drizzled honey and extra raisins on the top. Just….ya know…because.

Now for some real-life: It’s best to eat this ice-cream on the same day or as soon as it’s made because it gets very (very!) crumbly the next day after it’s frozen, as we noticed. My taste-tester rebel didn’t mind because he doesn’t care about these things but I’m just sending a word of advice into the universe.

I use a Cuisinart ice-cream maker. If you don’t have one, you don’t get to lose out (ever!). Freeze the coconut milk mixture for about 30 minutes (or until it has set partially) in a freezer-safe container. Pull it out of the freezer and then stir it vigorously with a spatula or whisk. Do this for about 2-3 hours until you’re happy with the consistency. These instructions are always good to keep handy.

Science dictates that adding more rum will increase the time it takes to freeze so 2 tbsp was what I gambled with. Use more but please TELL ME HOW YOU DID IT. 🙂

Bunny in a hat + Something to snack on.

April 17, 2013 by Edlyn

The more I have to do, the more I want to do something completely else. This is a good thing because I’ve had a chance to draw a bit, read a lot and watch too many movies. I’ve learnt to enjoy all this time I have to myself. I’m genuinely thankful for the pauses I get to take and that I get to look out a window more than I do a computer screen. I could want a lot but right now I have all that I want. My needs are immaterial.

The roomie has been sick so I’ve been force-feeding him tea all day since yesterday. And when I want somebody to drink their tea, I will put my foot down and make them. I’m really bossy about the temperature of the brew and also, it’s for his own good. He doesn’t complain. I just want him to get better so we can go on planning pretend adventures again.

This week the bunnies got to go on adventures too. I was happy for them. They get to take flight because of me. Lucky rascals.

I also thought I’d share with you this lunch snack idea, if you ever have the munchies. It’s so easy to make and all you should have in your kitchen is some:

Crusty bread
Garlic
Cherry or grape tomatoes,
Dried oregano
Olive oil
Sea salt

This is my take on bruschetta. Very subtle flavours (as it should be) and quite a rubbish photo I took with a cellphone. I wasn’t planning on blogging it but lunch ideas are important and so I will.

Quarter the tomatoes and remove the seeds. Place them in a small bowl and pour olive oil over to simply coat them. Sprinkle the dried oregano on the top and place in the refrigerator.

Take the slices of bread (as many as you’d like to use) and brush them well with olive oil. Cut a clove of garlic in half and rub it over the olive oil covered side of the bread. Heat the oven to 350 degrees F and place the bread on a baking tray in the middle of the oven for 10-15 minutes. The bread should be toasted.

Place the tomatoes on the top and sprinkle very lightly with salt. You only want it to bring out the inherent sweetness of the tomatoes and not overwhelm them. Trust me, you’ll enjoy the flavours.

A few years ago, I’d have never imagined I’d enjoy simple things this much but it’s been a journey. I’ve slowly realised that my impatience puts little into the universe as much as my perseverance does. I do want a lot of things for my life but I’m happy not to hurry them. I am still a go-getter. This is not me submitting to my handicaps (which if you ask me right now, it’s only being unable to drive legally). I’m just learning to pace myself. Let my mind rest. I have a great partner who always says, quite fleetingly, “Do whatever you want!” In an instant my mind rushes to so many places with an instant belief that yes, I can. But why? I don’t know why I’d want to spend hours working my way up to a dream when right here right now is the dream I’m kinda, sorta already living.

It aint grand. It’s no spectacle. My name isn’t on billboards but in small corners of this temporary home, a new day is a damn good deal.

Hair flip. And cue.

Can’t live without rainbows Thursday

April 11, 2013 by Edlyn

I’m tired. I’m tired. I’m tired. My eyes want to be closed but my brain doesn’t want to be asleep. It’s cool. We can all have breathing deep kinda days, can’t we?

Alrighty then.

I do love getting off on the right foot. It much better than getting off on the wrong foot, something I’m also quite good at. What I don’t want to do is not brag about my Thursdays. Back in the day, Thursday was my solace, my day to forget time and my one and only weekend. It’s tough working for a newspaper. People seem to want the news everyday and when you’re not the boss, you don’t get to pick which day you want to flip them ALL off.

I picked Thursday. I would’ve rather had Tuesday, my original weekend but Thursday was just laying there, inviting me in. I rolled my eyes and took it. Thursday can be quite dramatic.

This Thursday (I mean the one I’m sitting in right now), was very dramatic. By that I mean, nothing happened. I didn’t get my day off which technically doesn’t exist anymore. I’m glad it doesn’t. I was the only one (well, Claire too for a while) who couldn’t say TGIF. I’m not going to be a day basher. I’ve always loved all days equally. If you’re not living your life on Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday or this day of Friday, then you’re not doing much of this living thing at all. I object to not living. The alternative is quite unpleasant.

As Awesomepants just said, “bloggers need holidays too.” I agree. But today is Thursday.

It needs me.

Ingredients

1 bunch of rainbow carrots (Count 7 carrots in all)
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
2 tbsp maple syrup (you can also use honey)
Sea salt and pepper to taste

Preheat your oven to 425 degrees F which in my house takes eight Thursdays. Days I’ll never get back again, but this is something I have to do. For the fans.

(edit: I didn’t peel the carrots. I just rinsed them well and dried them off. You can peel them before of after they’re roasted. Your choice)

On a baking sheet lined with foil, line up the carrots like prisoners and rub them with olive oil. Pour the balsamic vinegar next and then add the salt and pepper to taste. For me, 1 tsp of salt plus a little bit more was enough. 1 tsp plus a little more….you don’t get instructions like this anymore, do you?

It’s better if you do not.

Close the foil over the carrots and place the tray on the middle rack of the oven for 30 minutes. At the 30-minute mark, pull the tray out of the oven and drizzle on the maple syrup. Leave the foil open this time around and place it back in the oven for 15 more minutes. The carrots are ready when they’re caramelised and you can pierce a butter knife easily through the largest carrot.

That was easy. My love for roasted carrots and beets is insatiable so it better be easy.

Serve with quinoa or just eat them the way they are. I ate all 7. Once and a half. I know what I’m talking about.

Hope you had a more relaxing Thursday. If you’re in India you’re over it and wondering what the heck I’m talking about.

Oh nothing much. TGIF.

Don’t mind me.

March 26, 2013 by Edlyn

I’ve just spent most of today staring deep into the soul of my new laptop that I cried for these past few months. Something about watching movies and TV shows in bed just called out to me.

Okay, the real story is that I wanted it so I could write in whichever room I pleased.

In bed.

Okay, the honest to goddess earth truth is I wanted it for my blog. To organise things into pretty folders and mess up my whole desktop as I chose.

I tell dudeface that this is his too and when he disagrees, I tell him to send it back. We’ve had these heart to hearts even before this being physically entered our lives so you know, we’re the master debaters.

*snigger*

Dear friends of my mother,

Please think of me as my own person and not as my mother’s daughter. She wouldn’t want my bad puns on her hands.

Love

Edlyn

PS: I’m going to get back to normality (riiiiiight) tomorrow as soon as I move all my photos etc and instal my whatchamacalits.

The usual.

See ya. Happy festival season.

The truth shall set you free.

March 21, 2013 by Edlyn

I did not marry a man who loves to cooks but sometimes I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if he did. He makes us great breakfast and grill things but sometimes ya just wants to eat cake. This was me yesterday, hoping for a different answer from Em Dub aka Awesomepants aka Biscuithead.

Me: Why did you buy all these baking things?

Cauliflowerpants: Can you be more specific, please?

Me: All this baking stuff like the tray and the hand blender…

Cabbagepatchpants: Oh, the hand blender I used to make special protein shakes like with oatmeal. The baking tray I used to broil chicken whenever.

Me: You should cook more.

Butternutsquash: My food was boring.

Me: -__-

It’s okay. I married him for his money. The blender is a perk.

“Don’t forget to blog!”

February 18, 2013 by Edlyn

I’m glad I have Awesomepants to tell me this every now and then. I know he reads what I write because he quotes lines from here. Like yesterday: “Baby, I’m the ‘husbandit’.” At least he knows he can’t steal my chocolate. I think.

So far, I haven’t forgotten to blog.

I do feel half-confident about writing what I do sometimes. Just as soon as I do, I remind myself that this is my space. I don’t make tall claims and if I do, you have permission to smack me. Yes, I have grand ideas but don’t we all? Larger than life starts with smaller than small. My ideas take cues from scribbles on a notebook and a brain that I do wish I could shut off sometimes. I’m not sure if this is how most of you write (is it?), but Edlyn was dropped on her head as a baby.

I’d love to make this post an “idea sharing” one. I’m not a new writer so I have some idea of what works for me. This isn’t for me. Rather it’s for those who want a voice. I’m going to write what I think is good advice and you can share some comments on your own experience. What is your opinion on using Twitter, Instagram, facebook for self-publicity? Are comments/likes really that important? How important is good photography? You get the point, right? Since I’ve yet to reap the benefits of such information, you-who-are-more-worthy, your words will be appreciated.

Cool, okay…1. 2. 3. GO.

HOW?

There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are. W. Somerset Maugham

Just begin. I don’t know what finally clicked in my brain but I’m glad it did. I’ve always wanted a blog but constant comparison and demon fighting stopped me from feeling worthy. It’s hard but as soon as you find how cathartic it is to share an honest story, it’s hard to stop.

Everybody has a story. Tell it in the way you know best. If you can talk, you can write. Unless you’re 1. Then I’m sure talking is a bit hard for you too.

You don’t always have to be Miss Universe with a world peace plan. If you look through this blog, you’ll see what a see-saw I am. People might not like your voice but someone is bound to relate. You can be an inspiration, just the same.

The best blogs are perfect but for them, it’s their job. They probably had to work a lot to get there and yes, they now have hired help. You don’t need all of that. All you need is your voice. See how we keep coming back to that?

Inspiration? My favourite inspiration is happiness. When something as simple as a walk outside takes my breath away, I can write so much better because I feel so much more creative. Life is 10% of what happens to you and 90% of what you make of it. So yes, you can also make beauty out of melancholy. Your words will be your guide.

Sometimes I feel I have nothing to say but if I sit on it for a bit longer, I feel I’m a lot more able to come up with something. It’s always better than nothing. Tea always helps. And music. Maybe a cat in your lap. The last one is totally optional.

Read like crazy. If you want to write like a champion, eat like one. The best food is a good book. My favourite authors have a very conversational style of writing. Right now I’m reading “Sex and the City”. Just kidding. I’m actually reading “Istanbul” by Orhan Pamuk. Reading books such as these help me be a lot more uncomplicated with what I want to say, knowing that something so magical can come out of it.

Most importantly: Don’t forget to write.

I won’t, dearest boyfriend. I won’t.

When I say: “He’s the one”, I mean chicken salad.

January 9, 2013 by Edlyn

Just yesterday right after Awesomepants came home from work, I served him the chicken salad he wanted. It had spinach, mushrooms, tomatoes and chicken marinated in lemon/garlic/pepper/cumin. It was the last thing from “special” but I already knew it was a very good day. My boy, he’s very specific with his food cravings. Specific in a way that’s not too picky and it let’s me do my thing. Specific is a good way to describe this here what I’m going to write. Or maybe not at all, knowing the way I usually write (Miss Bounce of the Walls G D’Souza).

Honestly, this is supposed to be a “I’m so lucky. Yay, I’m married and my life is amazing” kind of post. I am not going to do that. Yes, my life is amazing.

Yes.

Oh, the chicken salad. Metaphor maker activated.

I always thought I hated to cook. Always. I had no desire to cook anything because I saved all of that desire to stuff my face. Cooking? Hahaha. My mother will do it. I could chop onions and all that and sometimes when I was 10 or 11, our house help Sumita taught me how to cook the basic vegetable fare so she could rollerskate with Gayle in the hall. I couldn’t rollerjam so I was okay with the arrangement.

In 2010, when I came here to be with my future husband, I cooked. Something was wrong with me. I tried the chickens and salmons of the world and I was really good! The boyfriend was also on a healthy-eating kick which made my experiments even more fun because I loved known what we were eating was going to give our insides big hugs. He taught me how to make cheeseburgers (with turkey mince!) and I was captivated. Sounds so lame right now. Captivated by a cheeseburger. Maybe this should be the title of the post. His early lessons were the small wake up calls. When he showed me how to grill salmon, I went online, found other recipes and tried to make it a bit more interesting. His reactions were always encouraging…not like it was important or anything.

I went on with my kitchen fun until I had to go back to India. Then, things slowed down a bit. I didn’t stop cooking completely, but I lost some interest. Gayle was usually the cooking star daughter so I let that be. That and my mother would complain that I use too little or not enough salt. Awesomepants has high BP issues so maybe I did try to spread my less salt theory to the happily less developed country. Maybe I’ll never do that again.

Fast forward to yesterday. 2013 and the year or the chicken salad. The chicken salad I’ve spent a few paragraphs trying to turn into a metaphor for my marriage to this boy. (Yes, he’s mostly a boy. Just like some puppies are always mostly puppies). I now love cooking. I dream of doing it for a living, or something like that. It’s a little bit of his fault.

Which brings me right back to the salad. That chicken salad is nothing to make. I start with nothing and slowly as I add more of this and that, it became something. Something he really loved even though it’s nothing at all. It’s leaves, fungi and chicken, COME ON. What I’m trying to say is that it’s ALL about the chicken salad.

It’s exactly like last week when I was in the middle of my flu, looking like shit, playing Yahtzee with him and he stops and says: “You’re beautiful.” Whoa. No alcohol was involved.

We’re not striving for a perfect marriage. I admit I’m very shallow at times and expect fairy tales and storybooks to come alive every time our eyes meet. Nope. Not going to happen. What I want our marriage to be is chicken salad. Any salad. Boring when you see it separately but when it’s all in a bowl, I’ll hear that line I never get tired of:

“Salad was good, bb.”

(*I’ve made him a lot (A LOT) of salads in 2012. Always to take to work for lunch. That’s the one thing I can remember so vividly about this past year.)