Lentil Soup

As though the phone reception at my mums house wasn’t bad enough, I tried to hear what she was saying on top of the interrupting sounds of her banging, chopping, opening, frying… and so I asked her what she was cooking.

“Vospov shorba”, which from Armenian, directly translates to “lentil soup.”

Oh yum. It sounded perfect on this cold winter, Melbourne afternoon. That was the thing about living out of home. Your mother is not around to make you all those traditional home cooked delicacies that you grew up with.

I asked for the recipe, grabbing the nearest pen and paper I could find.

“Give it to me properly, not in drips and drabs.”

“Okay okay.” She took in a deep breath as she got ready to share her wisdom…properly.

I made the soup. It was...well perfect!

I changed around the recipe a little, adding a little more chicken stock.

I called mum to tell her how well it went.

“How is it?”

“To be honest, better than yours.”

“Oh its like that now is it?”

“Yeah sorry to bust your bubble.”

“That’s okay, just be careful, its addictive, you will probably end up going for a lot of re-fills.”

I was filling up my third plate as she was warning me. I put down the ladle, grabbed my bowl, sat on the dinner table, smirked and continued on sipping (loudly).

The best birthday card I have ever received

A recipe I do not know

I want to write down my favourite recipe, I really really do, but I don’t (exactly) know it.

I mean, I KNOW it, but not in the orthodox “measuring cup” sort of way, that I can write it down and you can pass it on from generation to generation.

This inability to remember (and somewhat follow) recipes comes from my poor at-home “training”, given to me by my mother.

Always having been a foodie my interest in cooking has been rife. I somehow just knew which flavours are best infused together, such as lemon and garlic, coriander and thyme, rosemary with meat, so on.

When I started asking my mother for the recipes of my favourite foods that she would make she simply could not tell me. No, I retract that. She could, kind of tell  me, but in a very rough kind of way. “just a pinch of salt, a little bit of lemon juice, some pepper, a dash of oil.” I never really learnt any of her recipes. It would infuriate me because I wanted to learn, she just did not know how to teach me!

…and now at 26 I am the exact same. I don’t have children but I love cooking and when people ask me for my recipes I just blurt out a list of ingredients with some rough measurements, as though I am throwing it at them.

“What did you put in that vegetable casserole you brought over tonight?”

Spice

Spice

Condiment

Himalayan sea salt

Black pepper

Spice

Chili

Spice

But here I go. I am going to try to tell you my favourite vegan pasta recipe. It is so fresh and crisp, made with zucchini noodles and a heap of vegetables. Totally raw, nutritious and delicious!

It is worth noting that I have only ever made this for myself so all measurements are for one person.

You will need

·     2 x zucchini

·     1 x tomato

·     ¼ green or red capsicum

·     ¼ Spanish onion

·     Generous amount of basil (i mean a lot - you want the flavour and aroma to come through)

·     Handful of parsley

·     Himalayan rock salt

·     Black pepper

·     ½ cup apple cider vinegar

·     ¼ cup cold pressed extra virgin olive oil

(FYI these are all approximate measurements – I usually just chop and add until things start looking right).

What to do

1. Spiralise the zucchinis to make zu-dles (zucchini noodles). You can buy a vegetable spiraliser from any kitchen or homewares store. I think some fruit markets now also sell them.
2. Chop the tomatoes and Spanish onion into diced bruschetta-like cubes.
3. Desiccate the basil and parsley
4. Mix in all ingredients with the noodles, including the apple cider vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper and mix together.

If you don’t necessarily want this to be a vegan dish you can add some smoked salmon.

Crisp, healthy and fresh…the perfect post weekend detox meal or summer time light lunch!

Again, I am sorry for the approximate measurements – you will get the hang of it, I promise!

Postcard from a place too familiar

My cousin Kristina sent me this post card from London in 2010. I love that she mentioned that "everything here reminds me of you." 

At this stage I had not yet been, but I had hoped that everything was reminiscent of me as I only dreamt of this stunning city.

I have been twice now, and I profess that London is quintessentially "me". I love that there is tranquility in the middle of the chaos, through the beautiful parks, green landscapes, the canal and the beautiful River Thames.

Backstreet's Back…Alright?

My first album was Backstreet Boy’s “Backstreets Back.” As soon as I would hear “Everybodaaaaayaaa, rock your bodayaaaaaaaaah” I would feel chills down my spine. I was in love.

It was the 90s and before the Internet and pirated downloads we actually had to pay for music (I know, as if!) 

If I wanted "Backstreets Back", mum's order was that I had to "save up". 

Usually, I only got CD singles which were $5, and just had a single song (as well as its various remixes). But I was hell bent on owning this album, and to have it I was going to have to “earn” the $30. But at 7 years old my only way of “employment” was mum handing me $2 a day, so it was going to take about 2 weeks (and a day).

By day 6 my patience had run out! I wanted Backstreet’s Back! I begged and pleaded, offered to vacuum, keep my room clean, cook, do all my homework, ANYTHING! I sang, danced, threw tantrums...

After school on day 7 mum took me to Sanity Music, reached up high (because it was #1 and all the way at the top) and grabbed the musical accolade that would become the soundtrack of my childhood. I was in awe. There it was, beaming in all its glory. The Boys looked so cool on the cover, leaning just perfectly against a warehouse wall in their oversized jackets. My “favourite” was Nick. He was the “baby” of the group and so cute!

 I opened my Velcro pink wallet and spilled out all the $2 coins on the counter for the salesman. Mum paid the remaining $18.

My memories of that night are clear. I got home and played the CD over and over and over again. Every song. During dinner, while doing my homework, all night. Even the shitty ones that are never released. I listened to them on repeat anyway.

These were the days before YouTube, Vevo, Channel V and mainstream cable TV (so no MTV), and watching video clips meant waiting for the weekend so that we could turn on Video Hits and watch music countdowns. Backstreets Back was in the music charts and I wanted to learn the steps that Nick, Brian, AJ, Howie and Kevin jammed out in the haunted house...

…and that is what I did. When relatives and friends came over I would force them to give me "ticket money", to watch my Backstreet Boys dance-a-long concert. I even dressed up as the “mummy”, hoping that I would emulate “Mrs Mummy” and be Nick Carter’s corpse bride.

In 2000 my sister and I got our 1^st computer. It was a bulky Windows 98 but the detachable side speakers made it super-duper cool! I had a stroke of genius to put the CD in the disc drive, just to see what happens. All of a sudden, the screen went blue, and the backstreet boys were invading. I had the option not only to hear their songs, but to see them sing, dance, and even watch bits and interviews from their global tour whenever I wanted! I was in heaven. The obsession only grew stronger.

more.

This one is a hard one to write.

It is hard because I don’t want to admit that I lost a great love, and it was my undoing.

I lost the reason, and I only saw the purpose.

In 2010 I was 20 years old and I re-met* the man up to this point is the love of my life. So cliché, we were making fun of ourselves on the singles table at a wedding. I want to mention that the couple divorced well before our relationship ended, so umm, thanks and sorry about that.

He fell in love with me almost instantly. Beaches, presents, restaurants, picnic grounds, fishing spots, putt-putt golf, cinemas, holidays, parties, late nights, festivals, drive-ins, love-letters, surprise visits, family barbecues, clubs, parents, shopping dates…the whole she-bang!

…and then I decided I did not want it anymore. I wanted more. I wanted the world. All of it. What he was offering was not enough. That’s what I thought. Then.

Now, I am not so sure. I sit here, on a Saturday night, single as fuck! I would not have stayed with him out of desperation or for the sake of being in a relationship, no way, but maybe I should have fought harder because he loved me. Nobody has since loved me like that. So passionately. And somewhere, through my fears and desire for a whole lot more, I loved him too. Very much. Being so young taunted me, and maybe I did not know the value of what I had. Two and a half years I ended it. And he was very sad.

Or so I heard.

*I say re-met because we knew each other from high school but had no romantic interest. Actually no friendly interest either, so I guess I was meeting him all over again.

Minimal makeup, Maximum beauty

I was at a wedding here, rocking Chanel Rouge - probably the most makeup I have ever worn.

Minimal makeup. It’s my thing. Anyone who knows me knows that. I am not a fan of the “cake face”. Not on myself. Not on anyone. If you wear too much make up I can't trust you - what are you hiding?

My mind is boggled by people who carry around 24 shades of lipstick, blushers, brushes, eye shadows and prima… WHAT IS PRIMA? I may sound ignorant, but really, anytime anyone wears prima, they ended up looking white in photos. White like their face belongs to a mannequin. And I also don't understand those foundation bottles that are numbers and not names. Foundation 334. I think some numbers are for going out and other are for "everyday"?

No. Just no.

Stop.

Everybody is impeccably beautiful. The trick is to discover how to flaunt your beauty and accentuate it.

I am the proud owner of a single "sand beige" foundation, perfectly suited to my skin tone for any occasion, day or night. I have a couple of light shaded pink and peach lipsticks for “everyday”, and the Chanel Rouge that I wear on super duper special occasions. There is something wonderful about red lipstick. It makes me feel so “grown up.” I actually bought it when I wore a "recycled" dress to a wedding (oh I know, the horror), which justified spending inordinate amounts of money. I also adore the Chanel waterproof mascara (hoping that the waterproof-ness will forgive me for re-applying once every 3 days…maximum), and a black eye pencil. The brand doesn’t matter, as long as it is stays on all day. Right now, I think I am using MAC.

To appear ultra glamorous I apply a (usually straight) line at the top of my eyelids. I have tried the "inside the eyelid at the bottom of the eye" look and its not for me. It makes my eyes appear way too close to one another. Just a short line at the tip. That’s it. It suits me and makes me feel like a movie star, and that is really it is all I need.

Let me note here that good quality makeup is important. Nobody wants that dry “crackly” mouth that happens when your lipstick is too dry. Always make sure your lips are kissable, even if you have nobody to kiss. Trust me on this one.

Oh, and another sensitive subject… blush!

I don’t know how I feel about red blush powders and their accompanying sticks. Actually, I do. They suck! They give you the “aunt that you only see at Christmas and asks for a million kisses but doesn’t bring any presents, wears purple eye shadow, glitter and smells like cigarettes and dusty perfume.”

I usually go for a cheek stain, or if I am short on cash (the status quo) , an old, almost finished dark shaded red or pink lipstick does the trick. Just a few dots along your cheek bone and rub it in. It gives that “I am conveniently just a tad bit bit flustered” look.

And eyebrows. Don’t over pluck them. Just don’t. and if you do don’t draw them in either. Don't even try. They don’t look like eyebrows, they just look like drawn black (usually squiggly) lines on your face. Trust me on this one too.

This photo was taken by my mother as I was heading off to my year 10 formal in 2004. I was 15. I think I look older here, but my makeup style has remained the same. Natural colours, emphasising your prettiest features. That is all.