In a pinch, french toast is our go-to dinner. I don’t feel too badly about it either. It’s a couple of eggs, a few slices of freshly baked bread, (we live next to a bakery) and some good quality maple syrup. Chuck a load of blueberries on top, and at least the kids are getting their daily dose of antioxidants. I like to serve with a glass of cold milk. Dinner, done.
What fun on a dreary Monday morning, to come across Rachel Burke’s jackets, all fashioned from shiny, high wattage tinsel. Each one is custom made-to-order using up-cycled jacket bases. Burke’s clients include Tavi Gevinson, Petra Collins and Lorde. I kind of want one in metallic pink. Just imagine the possibilities that unfold when wearing a tinsel cape.
I’ve been using the same foutas when I swim for years, but I do love these fouta inspired towels, designed in Melbourne by Sophie Matson. The company is called købn and the towels come in a selection of bold stripes. They may be too good for chlorine, but I don’t care. Thrice weekly swims deserve a prize.
I always wanted to be a mum, mostly because my own mama made it look so darn fun. And chic. And cool. She was the mum who danced around the kitchen to Dire Straits songs and turned up to parent teacher meetings in pink Reeboks. She was the mum who wore crazy wigs and turned our kitchen into a witch’s grotto. She was the mum who sneaked me into Pretty Woman when I was 12, and always stocked the fridge with enough junk food to feed all our friends. Perfect, crust-off cucumber sandwiches weren’t her style. She was more of a sloppy BLT mum. But I do remember her making a mansion out of immaculate marmite sandwiches once for my brother’s school fete. There was a little path, and trees and flowers, too –– all made out of fruits and vegetables and twiglets. As we drove to school, with the house on my brother’s lap, she braked abruptly and the whole thing went flying. Every inch of car was covered in florets of broccoli, carrots, chocolate buttons and slices of buttery bread. It’s the one and only time I ever remember my mother unraveling. We all cried a lot in the car that day. I can only imagine how lousy she felt. It’s a horrible feeling to come undone in front of your children. And that’s the one that stands out. But most of the time she made us feel like she was having so much fun, that she loved being our mum. Because she was. She did.
Footnote: I called my Mum today, and she says it was more log cabin than mansion.
So many childhood memories are triggered by food. I saw a handful of lychee this morning, and within seconds I was sitting at Mr Kai in Mayfair, age seven, noshing on dozens of lychee. It’s where my Dad used to take my brother and I and his then girlfriend after work late on Friday nights. I’d start off with a pile of prawn crackers, and then make my way through sticky ribs, egg fried rice and Peking duck pancakes with all the trimmings. Vanilla ice cream was a staple for dessert, and so was a bowl of lychee. I don’t remember much else about the evenings, other than the food and how exciting it felt to be out at a fancy, grownup restaurant. At home, my Mum stocked the fridge with lychee, too. I scoffed them by the dozen in front of the tele, and they were a staple in my packed lunch. There was a brief Lycheetini phase in my early twenties, (although, I don’t recall ever calling them that, thank heavens) but that’s probably the last time I came into contact with one. To be honest, the thought of eating a lychee, makes me recoil a little. Maybe I just had one too many?
I’ve spent the last few days horizontal, nursing flu-ey symptoms with chicken broth, ginger tea and countless epsiodes of This Is Us. Thankfully, we have two very comfortable sofas to recline on. That said, if I was ever wanting to splurge on a third, this would be it. It’s ridiculously over the top and perfect for convalescing on.
Thankyou Google, I would have had no idea it was Virgina Woolf’s 136th birthday had you not featured her portrait today. This evening, some Mabin mothers gathered at the Rose Avenue Junior Public School in St. James Town for a women’s dinner. We ate delicious food, and talked about the challenges and joys of raising our children. Community and friendship is so important as mothers. And although in many ways, the women who gathered tonight are so different, a common love and struggle with our children, connected us. “Some people go to priests; others to poetry; I to my friends.”
Lemon curd is one of my favorite things to eat. I could eat it straight out of the jar. These delightful Dutch Babies –– pancake meets crepe meets popover –– are the perfect pillow for piles of lemon curd. This recipe says they’re a cinch to make. I think my children would fall off their stools if they came to dinner and found these at the table. My son is liable to scoff at the lemon curd, but I’m sure jam or crème fraîche will do.
I went to the Christian Dior exhibition at the ROM on the weekend which left me all in a flutter. The ribbons, sequins and silks, oh my. It was learning about the companies –– Maison Hurel, Masion Rébé and Ginistry et Quénolle –– that produced all the hand embroidery that I found most fascinating. And the ones that created velvet ribbons, (Giron Frères) and dupioni silk (Staron). One of my very favourite Diors in recent memory, was the embroidered white dress that Mara Rooney wore in Cannes in the spring of 2017. It was modern day Hepburn. The sheer fabric added edge to her demure collar and hem length. And her choice of black heel and clutch was perfection. It was classic, crisp and utterly chic. Dior would have approved.
This is such a pretty idea for a valence –– a large piece of lace fitted to the box spring. I like the headboard also, with its lovely carvings. And while the whole look is fitting for a farm house, I think some colourful throw cushions and a chartreuse quilt would give the room a bit of a twist.
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