The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl

Pretty Darn Healthy Homemade Granola

O granola, how I love thee! Such sweet, oaty, crack-like goodness, cunningly marketed as a health food.

I've wanted to make my own for years but was put off by the oil and sugar found in most recipes. I don't mind a bit of oil or sugar but The Mothership raised me to believe those things have no place on the everyday breakfast table. Coco Pops were more evil than Stalin in our household.

I've obediently stuck to unsweetened muesli or porridge as an adult, but I'm haunted by the memory of a Marks & Spencer number called Seriously Nutty Crunch. I bought it just the once in 2003 when I first moved to Scotland and finally understood folks who ate cereal straight from the box. Phwoar. Nutritionally speaking it was basically crushed up cookies, but ever since I've longed for CRUNCH in the morning.

Last year I bookmarked Orangette's acclaimed adaptation of a Nigella Lawson recipe, but it had quite a bit of honey and brown rice syrup so I knew I'd go Seriously Nutty if I made it. I also found a few apple juice-sweetened recipes but they still contained a fair whack of oil or butter.

Then recently in one of those random blog excursions, I was staring at a photo of a cupcake then clicked a link then another then another and landed on a blog called Delicious By Nature where there was a granola with no oil, just one tablespoon of maple syrup and a blasted-up banana as the main sweetener.

It sounded too weird to possibly work, but work it did! It was proper crunchy like the Seriously Nutty stuff, but with a mild sweetness that falls into my personal definition of a genuinely healthy breakfast. No bullshit calories here. I was worried it would taste too banana-y but the flavour is subtle.

You could go as poncy as you like with the ingredients but the basic version contains ordinary things I already had in the cupboard: oats, seeds and/or nuts of your choice (I used sunflower and walnuts), cinnamon, vanilla extract, maple syrup (I subbed honey), a pinch of salt (optional) and a trusty banana!

All you do is whizz the 'nana into oblivion along with some water, the cinnamon and the dod of honey, resulting in an unsightly brown goo.

 

Stir that into the dry ingredients, spread it out on a baking tray then bake for about 40 minutes, stirring regularly.

The original recipe said put it on a foil lined tray which gave me soggy granola welded to foil.

I hacked it off into a non-stick roasting tin then fluffed it up, returned it to the oven and it turned out beautifully.

BANANA GRANOLA

Serves: about 6
Source: Delicious By Nature

200g (2 cups) rolled oats
(I used jumbo oats. You might need more if your banana is huuuuge and the mixture looks too wet)
1 ripe or frozen banana
3/4 cup water
1 tbsp honey
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp vanilla
1/4 tsp sea salt
30g (1/4 cup) walnuts, chopped
30g (1/4 cup) sunflower seeds

1. Preheat oven to 190°C/375°F.
2. In a blender or wee food processor, zap together the banana, water, maple syrup, cinnamon, vanilla, and sea salt until smooth.
3. In a large bowl, toss the banana goo with the dry ingredients.
4. Lay out the mixture in a single layer on a baking tray, either non-stick or lined with baking paper.
5. Bake for 40 minutes until oats are starting to brown. Check every ten minutes and give it a good stir, breaking up any big clumps. Don't panic if it looks really soggy to start with, it does crisp up eventually!
6. Remove from the oven or let cool inside the switched-off oven if your oven is rubbish like mine.
7. Crunch away with milk or yogurt n fruit. Huzzah!

I don't know how long this would last, considering it contains a fresh banana and all. This batch lasted less than a day in our house as Dr G was particularly enthusiastic. I can't wait to try again with different nuts or seeds. Maybe a shake of nutmeg too. You could add dried fruit of course but I like my granola fairly plain. I reckon pecans would be brilliant but they can be pricey... walnuts are a good value nut.

(I don't eat breakfast on the grass; it's just impossible to get decent natural light inside our house of an afternoon now that summer is dead and gone. Sniff sniff.)

UPDATE:
For those who were asking about the calorie content, click here. This is based on 6 servings. Personally I would get 8+ servings out of it, but a lot got stuck on the foil! It also depends on the way you use granola. You'd get less serves if you like a bowlful with milk, but I use it more as a condiment on top of my fruit and yogurt, so it goes further.

Recipe Corner: Instant Frozen Yogurt!

I was briefly trapped in the greenhouse on Saturday. I always forget that the sliding door has no handle on the inside, so if you close it all the way it's a real bitch to open again. I fruitlessly tried to drag it with my fingers, then with the spout of the watering can.

The greenhouse thermometer read 39°C. How did I last 25 Australian summers? I'm totally wilting, man. And home alone too, so there's no point yelling for help. What a stupid place to die! Surrounded by ants and weeds and tiny green tomatoes!

Finally I found freedom by using a tomato stake for leverage.

After all that heat and minor panic I thought, I could totally go an ice cream. We'd flop on the grass together and enjoy the fact that it was 20 degrees cooler than inside that glass box! But alas, there was no ice cream. There's never bloody ice cream. So I watched the Tour de France instead.

That evening I was still thinking about ice cream... when suddenly! I remembered we had ye olde frozen raspberries. This in turn reminded me of a recipe chopped out of delicious. magazine a few months ago for... Instant Frozen Yogurt.

There's three ingredients:

1. Greek yogurt (see note below)

2. Frozen berries

3. Icing sugar (USA = powdered sugar)

Method: Just zap and eat!

It was easy and delicious - all the goodness of ice cream without churning or custards or ice cream machines. And dead healthy, because you only need a slight dod of sugar. One spoonful of frozen yogurt and you'll be thinking of how you'll do it next time. With honey or agave nectar instead of sugar. With alternative frozen goods... blackberries or strawberries or banana or mango or pineapple or peas or fish fingers?

Note: If you can't find greek yogurt or if it's expensive in your area, here's how to make your own thick, greek-style yogurt from normal plain yogurt! It works a treat.

Here it is broken down microscopically with photos, Pioneer Woman stylee.

First, the ingredients lounging the back yard. The light was shoddy inside. This doubles as a personal reminder: MOW THE GRASS.

Raspberries, icing sugar and Greek yogurt. Yes that's full fat yogurt. Everybody stay calm! Normally I use 2% but the local supermarket has not stocked it lately. I can't find a single source of 2% in the West Fife area. But if YOU have spotted it... please dial 999 immediately!

Or alternatively post a comment. In the meantime I'll keep carting tubs of 2% back over the bridge whenever I go to Edinburgh.

Now here's the goodies in the food processor. It's 1:1 ratio of fruit and yogurt. The original recipe used 500g of each to serve 6. For two generous serves, I used 150g yogurt, 150g raspberries and a tablespoon of icing sugar.

Zap zap. It did not look promising at first. The yogurt would not move and the raspberries looked like the gravelly bits at the bottom of a bag of dog food.

Zap zap again. The machine grunted in protest. It's never been the same since the DIY almond butter. I dumped out half so it had more room to move. You can see it starting to blend.

Zap zap. Just like the almond butter there's a lovely moment when it suddenly pulls together and you're done. Party party!

It was whipped and glossy, like soft gelato. You'll like the texture if you're one of those kids who used to churn your vanilla ice cream in the bowl to a soft-serve consistency.

The original recipe suggests you serve it with almond biscotti but I just I chucked on some fresh raspberries. It was a little tart but in a good way - it tasted of proper fruit. It was deliciously creamy too but would be just as good with the 2% yogurt - and easier to blend since it's less thick. It would probably be fine with 0% if you want to be saintly.

If you like a firmer texture, I found a similar raspberry gelato recipe from Jules of Stonesoup where she freezes the mixture for a few hours. She used cream but reckoned yogurt would be fine too.

This recipe was a revelation for this reformed ice cream addict. Healthy, easy and minimal sugar. A definite keeper.

Reassurance Soup

I had a good nose though Jamie Oliver's latest cookbook in the supermarket last night and really liked the look of his Spring Vegetable and Bean Soup. So I took a shifty photo of the recipe with my phone.

I was riddled with guilt by the time we got to the dairy aisle because that's a terrible copyright infringement and I really should have bought the book, because even taking into account the generally rubbish royalties for supermarket sales, my pennies could have contributed to Poppy Nectarine and Lulu Cherry's school fees. I can't remember the proper names of his kids but they're edible ones.

Anyway Jamie old chap - if you somehow see this and think I'm a thieving git, I promise I will order your book come pay day. I do like your recipes. And I hope you do more TV shows like Jamie At Home, where it's just you and lots of really great, simple food. I admire your crusades but I miss the cookin'.

I am not even going to try and hide behind jokes today. Everything seems to be going a bit shit all at once. I am concentrating on doing little things that make me feel good and sturdy and capable. Fish suppers and Wispa bars are not longterm solutions.

So this arvo I did a weights DVD for the first time in a month. I untangled the mess of clothes and shoes in the bottom of the wardrobe. I purchased a truckload of birthday cards because everyone I bloody know seems to be born in the last week of October.

And then I made Jamie's soup. Well sort of, because I only managed to photograph three quarters of the page. That will learn me for being a copyright bandit. The soup is dead wholesome and simple, and nestled in a plastic container for my lunch tomorrow it looks like Reassurance in a Box. Yum yum.

REASSURANCE SOUP

Source: Boldly pilfered from JO's Ministry of Food

3 carrots
3 sticks of celery
2 onions
2 cloves of garlic
olive oil
400g (14oz) tin of cannellini beans
200g (7oz) cauliflower
200g broccoli
200g spinach (I used baby spinach leaves)
2 large ripe tomatoes (I used two handfuls of cherry toms)
salt and pepper
cayenne pepper (I added this. Because it makes you feel alive!)
1.8 litres hot chicken or vegetable stock
(JO uses 2 stock cubes; I used Marigold vegetable stock powder)

1. Heat a tablespoon of olive oil in a big pot over medium heat.
2. Chop up the celery, carrots, onions and garlic.
3. Chuck the above veggies in the pot. Cook for around 12 minutes until the carrots have softened but still holding their shape.
4. Meanwhile drain the cannellini beans. Break up the cauli and broccoli into small florets. Quarter the tomatoes.
5. Add those veggies to the pan along with the hot stock. Stir together.
6. This is where I added a few good shakes of cayenne pepper.
7. Bring to the boil the simmer for 10 minutes until the veggies are tender. This was more like 20 on my crappy stove.
8. When ready to serve, add the spinach to the pot and cook a further 30 seconds. Remove from heat.
9. Season with S&P.

JO says you can blend half the soup if you like it less chunky, but that would mean more washing up! He also suggests drizzling it with some extra virgin olive oil, which I'd never tried before but it was bloody delicious. This is the second JO soup I've made this month and they both had spinach chucked in at the end - that iron-y flavour is dead tasty.

Recipe Corner: Healthier Eton Mess

Strawberries! Quiiiick! Get 'em while you can! Get 'em while they're cheap! Get 'em while they're Scottish!

This is my August shopping mantra. For soon it shall be autumnal and dull and appleish, unless you want strawberries flown in from Guatemala at 70 pence per berry. So right now I'm shoving them into smoothies and salads and cereal and clinging onto summer even though it's pishing doon with rain outside.

My favourite ode to strawberries is Eton Mess. From the Wikipedia:

"Eton mess is a dessert of English origin consisting of a mixture of strawberries, pieces of meringue and cream, which is traditionally served at Eton College's annual prize-giving celebration picnic on the 'Fourth of June' ... One anecdotal story is that the dessert was invented when a Labrador accidentally sat on a picnic basket in the back of a car on the way to a picnic."

Eton mess is basically a mangled pavlova, but with much less faffing. You take just three ingredients - strawberries, meringue and cream - and mix them all together to create a sweet, summery, chewy, delicious... mess. It's also relatively healthy on the dessert spectrum if you make a few tweaks.

1. The strawberries
A couple of handfuls per person. Slice half of them into large chunks and finely chop the others. This way you get nice bitey bits and plenty of smushy juices to seep into the other ingredients.

2. The creamy stuff
I use 2% Greek yogurt - a cupful per person. It's just as thick as the traditional whipped cream but obviously a helluva lot better for you. The slight tartness balances the mighty sweetness of the meringues. Many recipes add some sugar to the cream at this point, but you don't need it.

3. The meringues
Meringues are handy buggers to know if you want to make a lower calorie pud. And they're allegedly easy to make yourself - just egg whites and sugar, right? Ho ho ho. My last attempt looked and felt like "a plastic dog turd from a joke shop" so I buy them from the supermarket.

(Aside to Edinburghites: you could totally ponce this up with meringues from Valvona and Crolla - £2 each but they're HUGE and crisp on the outside and gooey in the guts! Rhi found 'em on her last visit. Hubba hubba.)

Here I used some mini ones from ASDA that were only 15 calories each. I used three per serve. Crumble them into a bowl with the strawberries. Plop on then Greek yogurt, then fold it all together.

Spoon your Messes into a glass and take a photograph. Be sure to focus on the toaster in the background, so the Mess looks even more messy and indistinct.

Now tuck in a spoon while shouting, "Hurrah!" or "Top banana, old chap" or some other jolly crap that you might imagine blokes at Eton would say.

Here is a handy link to Google Image Search for more attractive Eaton Messes. Or you can check out Delia Smith's "About as Messy as a bouffant coated in seventeen tins of Elnet hairspray Eton Mess".

Eton Mess also works well with raspberries and other easily pulverised fruits. This tasty version has just 170 calories per serve. And only 340 calories if you accidentally eat two.

Recipe Corner: Spinach & Feta Frittata

Depending which definition you choose, you could call this recipe a frittata, a tortilla or a Spanish omelette. After my mathematical debacle in the last entry I'm unwilling to commit to an answer. Hehehe.

In this household it has been known variously as:

• There's A Vegetarian At My Table WTF Should I Do
• I'm Too Lazy To Cook But Realistically This Is Quicker Than Getting A Takeaway
• Refrigerator Graveyard In A Pan

Reason for today's culinary diversion: I found this Leftover Recipe Competition on Weight Loss Resources. I raided the fridge for the most shriveled ingredients and got all geeked up to enter. But then realised that might be a bit dodgy, since they kindly pimped the heck out of my book. So I thought I'd share it here instead.

Like everything I cook this is stupidly easy and awfully vague. It's one many reasons my food blog venture failed a few years back - I felt silly adding half-arsed primary school recipes to the blogosphere while other folks did precision flambéed goat trotters and Peruvian gooseberry parfaits.

Step 1 - Take some Spuds of Yesteryear
... that is, some leftover cooked potatoes, or the skanky raw potatoes lurking in your cupboard with seventeen eyes each. I had about 500 grams/1lb of new potatoes, so I removed the eyes, sliced em up then microwaved until juuuust tender.

If you're a member of the Potatoes Are Evil OOGA BOOGA camp, chunks of other firm veggies work well, like sweet potato or butternut squash.

Step 2 - Get yer non-starchy veggies ready
First, something oniony - leeks, spring onions or even... ONIONS. In this case half an onion leftover from pita pizzas the night before.

Second, something colourful and worthy. Asparagus or artichoke hearts are dead tasty, but here we have two handfuls of near-death English spinach. Most of it had turned to pulp in the bottom of the Tupperware container but these leaves were salvagable.

Step 3 - Heat a tablespoon of olive oil in a nice round pan with a handle (ETA: I have the hotplate on the highest heat, but our stove is utterly rubbish. If you've got a decent one I'd probably go with a medium heat so you don't burn the eggs later on).

Sauté your onion, then add the tatties. Gently stir now and then so they get a nice golden colour but don't break up. This takes at least ten minutes on my shithouse stovetop but I hope you get a swifter response!

Step 4 - Meanwhile crack some eggs into a bowl. I used half a dozen - the amount of eggs of course depends on how many veggies you've got, how many mouths you're feeding, and/or how many eggs are left in the carton. Season with some dried chili flakes and black pepper then whisk to combine. You don't need any salt.

Step 5 - Once the spuds are done, add the spinach then carefully stir until it wilts. Again, you don't want to bust your spuds.

Step 6 - Make sure the veggie mixture is spaced out evenly over the pan, then pour over the egg mixture. Kinda smooth and poke at the whole thing with wooden spoon to make sure the egg gets between the gaps and you get a relatively even surface.

Let it cook for awhile you get preheat your grill. Is that a broiler to Americans? It's that thing with the heat that you slide things beneath in order to get them nice and toasty.

Step 7 - Once it's started to cook around the edges, I plop on about 150 grams/5oz feta cheese or similar strong and crumbly cheese. I used Wensleydale once and it was nae bad. You could be virtuous and skip the cheese altogether but... BORRRRRRING!

Step 8 - I don't know exactly how long you cook this on the stove before you whack it under the grill. Usually its about five minutes, til the edges are looking cooked and it doesn't move much when you shoogle the pan, but there's still eggy liquid around.

Anyway, whop it under the grill for about five minutes until the eggy bits look puffy and the feta looks lovely and golden.

Step 9 - Let it rest for at least ten minutes, otherwise it's too hot for you to truly appreciate the full flavour of the tasty, tasty feta.

Actually don't let it rest too long or you'll start picking off chunks of tasty, tasty feta and then you'll have to shame-facedly serve up it up to your friends with big feta dents in it.

Nice with a wee salad - here we have mixed leaves, cherry tomatoes, cucumber, red pepper and strawberries.

Also very tasty eaten cold the next day, but a little dull if you've picked off all the cheese!

For the nerds: Serves 4. 338 calories per serve. Click for details!

Recipe Corner: Vegetarian Curry

I've been making a list of questions that keep coming up in comments and emails. Not only for the love of a good list, but so I can finally do that FAQ and be a wee bit more helpful to the folks out there.

One question that has popped up a lot is: Could I get the recipe for the veggie curry you cooked for Gareth in the book?

Oh yes. Forget flowers and chocs, there is no better gift to give your new vegetarian love interest than the Gift of Fragrance.

The recipe mentioned in the book is this Spiced Dahl Soup from BBC Good Homes magazine, February 2004 (click on the pic to enlarge). In February 2004 I was living in a sharehouse with six other chicks so I figure the purchase was desperate escapism.

It's an easy recipe and the ingredients are dead cheap. I didn't have a food processor at the time to make the paste so I just chopped and chopped til I couldn't chop no more. I also used yogurt instead of crème fraîche for the garnish thingy.

I've got a few more easy curry recipes/links to share but I'm about to nick off to Glasgow to see Mogwai et al at the Triptych Festival, WOOHOO! But the recipe says "One to cook on lazy Sundays" and tomorrow is Sunday so I scanned it in case anyone is looking to lazify their Sunday!

You'd Butter Believe It

Last year in a post called Why Stripping Wallpaper Is Like Weight Loss I reckoned that you could pretty much turn anything into a crappy metaphor for lard busting. Sunglasses, chickens, bananas, etc. I've got another one for you today: Making Your Own Almond Butter Is Like Weight Loss. Ohhh... yeah!

Way back in July 2006 Clotilde of Chocolate and Zucchini fame posted a recipe for homemade cashew nut butter, or beurre de cajou as they so elegantly say across the Channel. You grind raw nuts in a food processor until the natural oils emerge and transforms into a preservative-free trans-fatless natural goo. I was dying to make an almond version, but was convinced I couldn't be trusted not to gobble the whole jar with a spoon.

Eighteen months later, I try not to say that sort of thing. I don't like to think of foods as dangerous or triggers or any word that implies that I am a powerless, out of control fruitloop that needs to be muzzled at farmer's markets. So I felt I was ready to pulverise some nuts.

Almond butter is delicately grainy and almonds are very nutritious, don't you know. But it is pricey. £1.80 for a tiny 170g jar! It's a lot cheaper in the USA - I lugged a big jar of Trader Joe's stuff back from Chicago. It had honking huge shards of almond that stabbed the roof of the mouth in a painfully pleasant way. But once that ran out I was back to the expensive one, which made me recall Clotilde's recipe. Hmmm, I said in a tightwad tone befitting of one who has lived in Scotland almost five years, I could buy a half a kilo of raw almonds for the same price and make my own! THRIFT-O-RAMA!

Back in January, I bought my bag o' nuts and prepared to churn out another shitty metaphor.

Making almond butter is like weight loss because...

1. You start out with a lumpy mess!

Ho ho ho.
This is actually 500 grams of raw almonds, which I toasted in the oven.

2. The fundamental recipe is simple
Dump almonds into food processor, process at high speed until creamy. That's all there is to it! Eat less, move more! EASY!

3. The reality is painfully slow and messy and tedious frustrating as hell.
I hit the button.
And I ground and I ground and I ground.
And nothing happened.
So I looked at the clock. Ground some more.
Grind grind grind.
Sweat swear sweat.
Nothing happening!
It's not working! WHY ISN'T IT WORKING?! The recipe said it would work!
Twenty minutes of solid labour and all I had was almond clods!
This blows. WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!

4. When you least expect it, it all comes together.
By this point the food processor was almost too hot to touch. I was waiting for the smoke to appear. But after twenty five minutes the first trickle of oil oozed out. BROWN GOLD! And then finally it started to take shape.

5. The end product may not be exactly what you'd dreamed of. Might a bit rough. And lumpy.
Or look like complete dogs droppings. And I'd overtoasted the nuts - our oven has two settings: Cold Indifference or Cremains, so you can never get things right. But perfection is for... perfect people. This stuff had character! It was delicious too, subtle and creamy.

I also managed to eat it in a sensible manner, spread over a series of breakfasts (with Bonne Maman apricot jam, CHOICE!) I didn't attack it with spoons or write odes of longing when we were apart. There's hope for me yet.

CONCLUSION
This mega jar of almond butter was a bargain at just £2. Of course that doesn't account for labour and half an hour of electricity. But just like the lard busting, sometimes the most effective method is not the most efficient!

Recipe Corner: Pumpkin and Tomato Soup

Happy Thanksgiving to all those who partook yesterday!

I hope you dined well, whether you turkeyed or tofuturkeyed or something else altogether. I don't know much about Thanksgiving except for the general themes of eating too much and being thankful. Sounds like the perfect holiday to me.

In the spirit of the event, here is a wee list of lard-busting things I am thankful for:

Internet Shopping - As much as I love wandering down the aisles of supermarkets admiring the goods, I hate the people. I hate when they meet their friends in the dairy aisle and park their trolleys nose to nose and chatter away oblivious to me trying to squeeze past. I hate the crowded car parks and the checkout queues and jumping up and down at the fish counter trying to get some service. I hate how miserable everyone looks.

So this is why I order groceries online and have them delivered for no more than the cost of trekking to the megamart on the bus. I plan a week's meals in advance, click click for ten minutes, then sit back while some other poor bastard has to scour the aisles with my shopping list then cart it to my door. And they don't "accidentally" chuck in cakes or bars of chocolate. It's a lard-buster's dream!

Dumbells Under The Bed - Again, I hate people. Bah, humbug. And I hate venturing out in the cold and dark, so I like to work out at home this time of year and not have to interact with the world.

Soup - Everything you need in a bowl. Easy to cook, easy to clean up. Endless leftovers. Equally healthy as, but far less fiddly than, a summer salad.

External Validation - The other day I had two separate people ask me if I'd lost weight. Amazing! This hasn't happened to me in so long. The first was a lovely woman who'd been away for six months and the other was someone I see in passing most days. They both used the word "load". As in, "Have you lost a load of weight?".

Dietgirl wept.

Actually, I just said, "Well, maybe a wee bit". Because I haven't lost anything, really. But I've been doing well for a few weeks now and had been annoyed with the scales as you well know, so to hear some nice words from impartial observers was a real boost to the ol' motivation. The number on the scale can faff around all it wants, but at the end of the day I just want to look like I take up less space, darnit.

Other things I'm thankful for: Good friends and internet people, emails from siblings, emerging biceps and Thursday night repeats of The Avengers on BBC4.

. . .

I've been meaning to apologise for my horribly slow email replies. But then I wondered if apologising would make me sound like a raging egomaniac, as though I can't get through the front door of our flat because there's just soooo many emails that they've all burst out of the computer and flooded the hallway. But then I figure if I don't say anything then it looks like I am a unresponsive snob. Hmm, dilemma!

So let me reassure you I have neither delusions of megastardom nor am I too important to answer my emails, I've just been a bit busy. Anyway I'm now down to 18 emails in my ReplyTo folder, and the oldest one is from late September so that's much better. Woohoo!

. . .

Recipe Corner

Well it's not much of a corner, more the arse end of the page. But there's no time for pedantry, we have to make the world's most delicious soup. Allez allez!

Seriously, it's the best soup I've had in yonks. It comes from Good Food magazine and was described as "rustic and robust". I thought that a rather poncy and optimistic description but it was really sublime! Hearty, rich, smooth and sweet. And strangely creamy despite absence of actual creamy ingredients. Hubba hubba.

Notes:

• In the mag the soup was served with some fancy cheese croutons but I skipped those as I am trying to shrink, dammit.
• The recipe said to roast the vegies with the herbs left on their stalks, and remove the leaves afterward. I thought that sounded far too fiddly so I just did that before it went into the oven.
• I chopped the tomatoes in half before roasting, which was a bad move as the juices ran everywhere and the veggies were more steamed than roasted. Next time I'll leave them whole.
• The recipe calls for pumpkin but I used butternut squash as that's all there bloody ever seems to be in the shops, except for Halloween. Then felt guilty as hell when I discovered my butternut had been flown in from NEW ZEALAND!?!

I don't have the recipe on me right now so I will blurt from memory and apologise in advance for any glaring inaccuracies! (Update - Have now checked recipe, should all be functional now!)

PUMPKIN AND TOMATO SOUP
Serves: 4
Source: BBC Good Food

650 - 900g (1.5 - 2lb) chunk of winter pumpkin or squash, peeled and cut into cubes
450g (1lb) ripe tomatoes
one red onion, peeled and cut into 8 wedges
6 whole cloves of garlic, unpeeled
a few sprigs of each fresh rosemary and thyme (I used about 6 of each)
3 tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil
1.2 litres (2 pints) vegetable or chicken stock

1. Preheat oven to 220'C (430'F).
2. Pull the leaves off the herb stalks and chop finely.
3. Put all of the ingredients, except for the stock, into a roasting tin. Turn in your hands so everything is coated in oil. Roast, uncovered, for 35-40 minutes, turning occasionally, until it all looks... roasty.
4. Remove veg from oven. Squeeze garlic cloves out of their skins.
5. Scrape the veggies into a blender and liquidise with the stock, in two batches if necessary. (I just put the lot in a big pot then blasted to smithereens with my trusty hand-held pulveriser thingy)
6. Pour into a large pot and heat a little if needed.
7. Check seasoning then EAT. Ooh yeah.
8. Actually, put it some bowls first, THEN eat. If you insist on being civilised.

Per serve: 212 calories, 12g fat

Bon weekend, you groovers!

Let Them Eat Crispbread

I'm glad folks enjoyed the MSN article. And just so you know, I didn't come up with that Queen of Diet Blogging title! I would never dare to refer to myself in such lofty terms.

. . .

As predicted, last week's mega loss (4.5lb) did not stick. Once my appetite returned things levelled out again. I was 2lb up this week which means 2.5lb down over two weeks which is more indicative of my efforts. I'm happy with that, woo!

. . .

SALAD! It's what makes you skinny. Unless it's an unhealthy salad. Did you know there is a salad in Britain called Savoury Cheese, which basically means grated cheddar mixed with mayonnaise. They really stretch the definition here. You can get it on a bread roll or perhaps plopped atop a baked potato.

But back to the skinny salads. This week I am obsessed with this Carrot Salad that I got from a Weight Watchers cookbook. Say what you will about the twin dubyas, but in my opinion they consistently come up with the most innovative diet-friendly recipes. I couldn't be bothered fetching the cookbook, but here's a brief rundown.

JAPANEASY CARROT SALAD

Serves 4

• Grate 4-5 big fat carrots
• Chop up a wee bunch of coriander (cilantro if you're American).
• Throw it all into a bowl with
  • 2 tablespoons of sunflower seeds
  • 1 tablespoon of pumpkin seeds
  • 1 teaspoon of sesame oil
  • 2 tablespoons of soy sauce
  • 1 tablespoon of honey.
• Mix it all up and eat. Serves 4!

I was out of pumpkin seeds so used extra sunflowers. I also added the juice of one lime to zing it up a little. It tastes so refreshing and vaguely Japanesey! We had it with tuna steaks and steamed new potatoes.

Why is this not on my cooking blog? Because that's on hiatus while I write that stinking book. Which is on hiatus for ten minutes while I write this entry :)

The White Stuff

This post was imported from my short-lived, now-defunct food blog, Cooking With Ginger.

Yes, for shame, I will need to admit defeat on this food blogging caper for now. At least until I get this stinking Dietgirl book written. No, I'm not one of them high-falutin' bloggers with bookdeals, this is a personal project I have undertaken purely to see if I can rise to the challenge. But I have been far too easily distracted from it lately. Thanks very much, bloody World Cup.

The thing is, I have cooked so many wonderful healthy dishes that I'm sure the lard busting crowd would be interested in hearing about. As I've said before, I'm not short of ideas and I love writing about food. But after wasting the first third of 2006, I came up with a timetabled writing plan in May and I am determined to stick to my deadlines. So this is it for now, unless I suddenly become ridiculously ahead of schedule.

Thank you for all humouring me as I made my ill-advised foray into the foodblogging arena. I made this pavlova today and I could spend hours composing a witty post full of childhood pavlova anecdotes, but instead I will just link to the caption on Flickr which outlines my problems. If you have any handy hints on how to make my meringue taller, I'd love to hear from you!

Recipe Corner: Mighty Sputnik

This post was imported from my short-lived, now-defunct food blog, Cooking With Ginger.

A couple of weeks ago this strange and seemingly extra-terrestrial vegetable appeared in our organic box delivery. Thanks to the clever citizens of the internet, I quickly discovered it was kolhrabi. Most people recommended I try it raw, and indeed the lovely and famous Clotilde once wrote about the joys of pressing slices of it into a wee pile of sea salt. And it sounds even more exotic in French: le chou-rave! 

In the end I opted for this Kohlrabi Slaw. If you're trying to lose some blubber, SLAWS ARE YOUR FRIEND, people! Sick of lunchtime salads? Tired of grilled fish for dinner? Worrying about how to fit in your Five A Day? Just get out the grater, baby. It's easy to mow through a pile of vegetables when they're in slaw form. And you don't need barrells of mayo either! This recipe calls for just a few tablespoons, but I think it would taste fine if you left it out altogether and just used the lime juice and vinegar. We had this with some tuna steaks and a oven-roasted potato wedges. The kohlrabi is zingy and fresh and makes a nice change from ol' fashioned cabbage-based slaws. Thanks for your help, Internet Detectives!

KOHLRABI SLAW

Serves:  4

Source:  Slashfood

1 large kohlrabi, peeled and grated

1/2 fuji apple, peeled and grated (I used a whole bog-standard Braeburn!)

1 carrot, peeled and grated

1/2 sweet yellow or red onion, thinly sliced

handful of chopped parsley (whoops, forgot this)

juice of half a lime

3 or 4 shakes of sherry wine vinegar (I subbed white wine vinegar)

mayonnaise, just enough to bind ingredients

sea salt and fresh ground pepper

Combine everything in a large bowl. Mix well. Chill 30 minutes to blend flavours. Serve. You cannae get easier than that! 

Serving dish courtesy of New Blossom Chinese takeaway down the street. One day I will take a proper photo instead of hasty snaps of leftovers!

Recipe Corner: Wild Mushroom Risotto

This post was imported from my short-lived, now-defunct food blog, Cooking With Ginger.

Healthy recipes tend to taste light and clean - full of fresh herbs and strong flavours, like Elise's amazing Seared Tuna that we've been devouring every week since she posted it. Just one mouthful of dish like that makes you feel holy and virtuous. But sometimes you don't feel holy and virtuous. Sometimes the body screams out for decadence, comfort and stodge! 

Traditionally, comfort and stodge means a pound of butter and/or a pint of cream. But the best healthier recipes make the most of ingredients that add maximum richness and flavour without mega calories. This Weight Watchers mushroom risotto proved a great example - rich and creamy without actual cream or dodgy low-fat dairy. Just look at the main ingredients:

• arborio rice - inherently creamy and starchy
• white wine - just 150mL but it adds a bit of posh
• dried porcini mushrooms - soaked in boiling water, both shrooms and stock adding richness
• parmesan cheese - a scant 50g for four serves, but plenty to give creaminess

The beauty of most Weight Watchers recipes today (apart from the shitey ones with artificial sweetners) is that they cleverly reduce the amounts of the most calorific yet flavoursome ingredients, while adding bulk with low-cal or low-fat stuff like vegetables. The recipes taste a bit lighter than the Original versions, but not so "diet-y" that you feel you're being defrauded. It was nicely luxurious, with all those mushrooms making for a meaty and satisfying meal for this faux-vegetarian. 

My tiny mods to this recipe: I used bog standard cheapo button mushies but added a pack of Tesco "Mixed Exotic" mushrooms for fun. I should have written down their names, but we're basically talking all the odd-shaped weird ones. They were mighty flavoursome. I probably twice the specified quantity too, that way I got to have more in my bowl! I forgot to buy parsley so chucked in some baby spinach, which was noice. I also stirred in the parmesan in the saucepan, as opposed to sprinkling on top, so you get that nice creamy cheesiness in every bite.

WILD MUSHROOM RISOTTO 

Source:  How To Cook The Weight Watchers Way 

Serves:  4 

20 g dried porcini mushrooms 

150 ml boiling water

low fat cooking spray

1 onion, finely chopped 

2 garlic cloves, crushed 

350 g arborio rice 

100 ml white wine 

1.2 litres hot vegetable stock 

200 g mushrooms, sliced 

a small bunch of fresh parsley, chopped 

salt and freshly ground pepper 

50 g Parmesan cheese, finely grated, to serve 

Place the dried mushrooms in a measuring jug and add the boiling water. Soak for 25 minutes. 

Heat a large, heavy saucepan, spray with the cooking spray, and gently stir fry the onion and garlic until softened. Add the rice and and stir to mix well, then add the wine. 

Drain the dried mushrooms, reserving the stock, chop into small pieces. Strain the soaking water through a fine mesh sieve or piece of muslin and add to the risotto (I did not strain it: too lazy/hungry), with the reconstituted and fresh mushrooms. (I actually stir-fried fresh mushies a wee bit before I added the porcini and liquid) 

Add the vegetable stock in small quantities, cooking and stirring frequently until all of it has been absorbed. 

Check the seasoning and stir in the parsley (or spinach til wilted). 

Serve with the parmesan cheese sprinkled over the top. 

Per serve:  418 calories, or 6 WW Points 

NB:  Photo is copyright of and unceremoniously nicked from the Weight Watchers UK website, as once again I forgot to photograph before eating! Oh dear. 

UPDATE: Thanks to Pamela who cooked this recipe and pointed out there was no mention of stock! Oh dear. The ingredients list has been amended :)

So I Married A Vegetarian

This post was imported from my short-lived, now-defunct food blog, Cooking With Ginger.

Vegetarianism was once considered a crime in my family. Some parents worry about their child bringing home an undesirable boyfriend or a venereal disease, but the worst thing I could have done was saunter in with a bag of lentils or a Linda McCartney sausage. We raised sheep and cattle on our farm; pigs too until the late 80s when we sold off their pink unprofitable asses. Meat truly brought home the bacon for us. We only ate what had once roamed the fields. Our freezer was brimming with home grown roasts and mince and little plastic bags of lamb chops. And in the springtime my sister and I bottle-fed the abandoned baby lambs, fattening them up for market then pocketing the profits.

Our beef was chopped up by a proper butcher, but if we needed lamb my stepfather did the slaughtering himself. I don't think he enjoyed the task one bit, and was always as kind and merciful to the sheep as one can be in these situations. But I liked to imagine things were more ghoulish. He'd always tell us stay in the house, but I listened out for the telltale sound of the chosen sheep doing its final woolly twitch. It would always be at sunset and my stepdad would turn on the headlights of the truck to see better. I'd peer through the trees at this silhouetted scene, finding it all quite macabre and dramatic. The red sky, the dogs barking and straining against their chains, the unmistakable scratch scratch of the knife separating wool from flesh.

Today I would love to have access to what was essentially an endless bounty of free-roaming organic meat. But as a surly teen I resented the homegrown stuff. I envied my friends and their cheap Woolworths sausages on styrofoam trays. "Lamb chops AGAIN!?", I'd bitch at the dinner table, rolling my eyes in anticipation of the reminder that meat was our livelihood.

There was just no escaping meat. I even had a meaty weekend job, selling the Colonel's finest goods at KFC. I'd come home on a Saturday night reeking of chicken grease and secret herbs and spices, only to be greeted by a sheep carcass hanging on a hook in the laundry. On Sunday morning my precious slumber was disturbed by the sound of said sheep being buzzed to pieces with my stepfathers meat saw.

So it amuses me somewhat that after all that, I ended up marrying a vegetarian. I asked Gareth why he chose to abandon the flesh ten years ago, expecting it would be about economics, taste, or sympathy for the poor little lambies. But his main reason was because it makes a mess!

"Too many dishes," he said. While the lad likes good food, he hates cleaning, and vegetarian fare generally means less scrubbing afterwards.

When we got married and moved in together, he was adamant that I should cook and eat meat as much as I wanted. He is not one of those militant vegetarians. But I think perhaps I'd had my fill of red meat as a child. Since I moved to the UK I'd gone semi-vegetarian anyway, mostly due to budget restrictions. I've also found weight loss easier when I go meatless, although I still eat fish. But above all, I am a lazy bastard, and I don't miss the flesh enough to cook two different dishes.

So the past year has been an interesting challenge, coming up with repertoire of healthy vegetarian meals that are quick and easy, and address the following criteria: 

1. Not be too reliant on butter, eggs or cheese 

2. Not be too reliant on meat substitutes such as Quorn

3. Not make you fart all freaking night. 

Number three is often the biggest challenge. I cooked this Pumpkin and Spinach Frittata last night and there were no ill-effects. While it is heavy on the eggs, I am not one of those Egg Whites Only nutters. Divided by six is only an egg and a half each! It also has a smidgen of cheese, and I used Marks and Spencer Half Fat Mature Cheddar. Unlike super low fat cheeses, it doesn't taste like a monkey's rubbery armpit, but is far less calorific than the original.

I scrawled this one down from my sister's copy of the CSIRO Total Wellbeing Diet in a godawful hurry, so excuse the sloppy instructions. And furthermore, please excuse the extremely ordinary photos here. I cooked this after a gruelling Spinning class, and I just needed to EAT, dammit!

As with everything I make, tastes better than it looks.

PUMPKIN AND SPINACH FRITTATA

Source: CSIRO Total Wellbeing Diet

Serves: 6 (or 4 gluttons) 

400g pumpkin, cut into 2cm cubes (I used 600g of butternut squash)

1 tbsp olive oil

1 tsp soy sauce 

2 leeks, washed and sliced 

2 cloves of garlic, chopped finely 

300g baby spinach (I only had a wee 180g bag) 

8 eggs 

400g low fat yogurt (I used 3 x 150g pots Total 0% Fat Greek Yogurt)

50g mature cheddar cheese 

Preheat oven to 170'C. Place pumpkin cubes on oven tray, toss with half the olive oil and soy sauce. Bake for 25 mins (I did 230'C because our oven is crap and I was impatient and hungry). While this is happening, sautee leeks for five minutes in remaining olive oil, then add garlic and spinach, cook until wilted. Tip mixture onto work surface and chop roughly (I didn't do that because I was lazy and hungry). Whisk eggs, yogurt and cheese. Tip in pumpkin and spinach mixture, stir to combine. Pour into a greased baking dish. Bake 20 minutes until set. (I turned down the oven to 180'C and it took 20 minutes to set with a nice pale golden top) 

The Ultra-Classy Sloppy Leftovers In A Chinese Takeaway Dish shot.

. . . Oooh lordy, this frittata was deliciously creamy and subtly cheesy. Creamy and cheesy are two things you don't get much on a diet, but it's all happening here, thanks to the magic of Total 0% Greek Yogurt! The spinach and pumpkin are fantastic together, but I can't wait to try it again with different vegies. Or with feta cheese. Or bacon.

Recipe Corner: Friday Night Cookie Emergency

This post was imported from my short-lived, now-defunct food blog, Cooking With Ginger.

Gareth has some pals drop over unexpectedly last night, and there we were without any biscuits to offer. These evenings typically consist of the lads sitting around on the couch in a cloud of smoke, playing records and scoffing tea and biscuits into the wee small hours. It soon became apparent that without something buttery and sugary to dunk into their mugs it just wasn't going to work. 

I happened to be leafing though the latest copy of Good Food magazine, which I'd purchased in spite of my New Year's resolve to buy less food magazines. D'oh! They had a great Mother's Day feature in which readers sent in favourite recipes handed down from their mums. I pounced on these Simple Jammy Biscuits, because the title says it all! Simple, jammy, biscuit - how can you go wrong?

The blokes usually tear into packets of nasty supermarket-brand Custard Creams, Rich Tea and Bourbons. How can I put this nicely? These biscuits are shite. They cost about 59p for a huge pack and they're full of hydrogenated vegetable oil, partially inverted glucose syrups and a rainbow of colourings and flavours. I usually sit frowning into my tea, watching the boys demolish them by the handful and thinking, that ain't good for you! Butter, sugar and jam are hardly have a place in the temple of health foods but at least you know what you're dealing with there. 

So I had an attack of the 50s Housewife, disappeared into the kitchen and had these babies in the oven within ten minutes. The biscuits in the magazine picture were golden discs of perfection. Mine were lumpy and sprawling but they were happily scoffed by Gareth and friends. I'm still being a Sugar Martyr so I only stole one bite. They were beautifully buttery, simple, soft and Mumsy - ideal for mindless dunking into tea. 

I'll scan the magazine picture later so you can see the more appetising, non-deformed version!

SIMPLE JAMMY BISCUITS

Source: Good Food, March 2006

Makes: 12 

200g/8oz self-raising flour

100g/4oz caster sugar

100g/4oz butter

1 egg, lightly beaten 

4 tbsp strawberry jam (I used Bonne Maman Raspberry. Choice!) 

Heat oven to 190°C, Rub the flour, sugar and butter together until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs. Alternatively, you can do this in the food processor (Yeah right. I did it by hand, less washing up that way!) 

Add enough egg to bring the mixture together to form a stiff dough. Flour your hands and shape the dough into a tube, about 5cm in diameter. Cut into 2cm-thick slices and place on a large baking sheet. Space them out as the mixture will spread while baking. Make a small indentation in the middle of each slice with the end of a wooden spoon, and drop a teaspoon of jam in the centre. 

Bake for 10-15 minutes until slightly risen and just golden. Cool on a wire rack.

Note: Next time I'd probably make 24 wee ones instead of the recommended 12, so you'd get more jam per bite!

Per Biscuit: 170 calories, 5g saturated fat. WW Points: 3.5 (ouch!)

Recipe Corner: A Little Chunk of Oz

This post was imported from my short-lived, now-defunct food blog, Cooking With Ginger.

Just when the body has recovered from the guts-and-starch-orama that is Burns Night, along comes Australia Day on January 26. If I was Down Under I 'd have celebrated traditionally beneath relentless sunshine -- pavlova, snags on the barbie and the Triple J Hottest 100 Countdown blaring on the radio. But I was in Scotland, so I trudged off to work in the darkness. On the way home I bought a can of Fosters Lager for 67p, presented it to Gareth and said, "Happy Australia Day!"

"Ah, thanks!" he said and wrinkled up his nose. "How about some lamingtons?" 

Crikey. Lamingtons. Baking and diets are incompatible. Sure, one may experiment with applesauce and low-fat margarine and artificial sweeteners. But for me, if it's not the real deal I'd rather not eat it at all. And since I can't seem to bake without licking the bowl, spoon and kitchen bench clean, my tactic has been to completely avoid baking altogether while trying to lose weight.

Unless, of course, it's a Special Occasion™. Recently I surveyed the year ahead and declared the following 2006 Official Special Occasions:

• Australia Day
• Wedding Anniversary - March 3
• Anzac Day - April 25 - the mandatory Anzac Biscuits
• Easter - It's about time I learned to make Hot Cross Buns
• Gareth's Birthday - August 12
• My Birthday - November 1
• Christmas Day - an inevitable trifle

Now that sounded all well and good, until I added a few Supplementary Occasions. Such as the Anniversary of the Day I Moved To Scotland, the Anniversary of the Day I Met Gareth, the Anniversary of Our First Date and the Anniverary of the Day I Discovered Green and Blacks Chocolate. Then there's the birthdays of my mum, sister, best friend and grandmother. They don't live anywhere near me but it would be rude not to have cake in their honour. And while I'm at it, I should pay respect to Halloween, the summer solstice and the National Days of a few obscure African nations.

It is all too easy to find a flimsy premise for a baking frenzy, and before you know it your healthy habits have been derailed. But there is something so fundamentally peaceful and satisfying about smushing butter and sugar together; of cracking eggs and waiting impatiently by the oven door, that I can't imagine limiting that pleasure to a few times a year. So here are a few more tactics I've employed:

• Bake smaller quantities. I love fruit scones, and once had a craving that would not shut up. So I got a trusty recipe and divided the quantities until it yielded just four scones. Yes, it's not very energy efficient to fire up the oven for such a small batch, but two for me and two for Gareth meant I could answer the Call of the Scone without the Baker's Remorse for weeks afterward.  
• Go through your favourite recipes and enter the ingredients into a calorie counter/recipe builder/Points©™® Calculator such as Weight Loss Resources. How many calories per serve? How much saturated fat? How small can you make the servings to reduce the damage but still be satisfying? Some results will be so shocking it will put you off them for life, but others will surprise and be a managable treat.
• Bake stuff you don't like. For me the kick comes from the stirring, creaming and messing up the kitchen just as much from eating the results. So make something you don't fancy then give it someone who does.
• Freeze half of the batch. But this only works if you can be trusted not to eat frozen cookie dough in a weak moment. Not that I've done that that or anything.
• Bake for a crowd. I like to make a batch of brownies, allocate myself a piece or two, then take the rest to work where it's guaranteed to be snarfed up in minutes. This Bake-and-Dispose method means you are popular AND your house stinks deliciously of chocolate without affecting the size of your arse.

Anyway, back to the lamingtons. Lamingtons are a great Australian tradition, and defined as "a small square of sponge cake... coated all over in softish chocolate icing and then in desiccated coconut". An exhaustive history can be found here. I like my lamingtons after a day or two in the fridge, when chocolate icing has seeped into the sponge, making each bite a coconutty chocolately mess. It goes down like a charm with a cup of tea.

My grandmother is the master Lamington Maker. Her sponge is always light and airy. Her lammos are always uniform cubes, with just the right balance of icing and coconut. Back in the Farm Days she'd whip up a batch at Shearing Time. We'd carry them down to the shearing shed for morning tea, along with cheese and tomato sandwiches and Billy Tea. The shearers held the dainty cakes in their thick greasy hands, coconut flying in all directions. The dogs snuffled around on the wooden floors, searching for stray crumbs amongst the tufts of wool. My eyes would be glued to the Tupperware container, counting and calculating, hoping there'd be one left over for me.

I was discussing lamingtons with my grandmother when I was back in Oz last October, whining that mine were always a deformed, lumpy mess. The kitchen floor and my shirt inevitably wore more icing than the cakes. But she said the problem was my technique. I'd been cutting the cake into cubes then dunking them in the icing, fondue stylee, then throwing them into the dish and pelting them with coconut. She said it was far easier to divide the cake mixture into two loaf tins, then simply ice a WHOLE cake and roll it in the coconut, one side at a time. Then once it's set you cut it into smaller pieces and then carefully ice the remaining sides. Much tidier and far quicker. 

The cake in loaf form.

Well that all sounded very good in theory but my lamingtons turned out just as sloppy as ever. First I realised after 25 minutes that I'd set the oven ten degrees too low, so I turned it up to 180 then promptly forgot about it. So the cakes were a little bronzed and dry. It was somewhat easier to ice a whole cake in loaf form, but I still had my usual problems of dripping excess icing into the coconut dish, and spraying excess coconut into the icing dish. Oh, and excessive manhandling of the cakes, resulting in huge thumb dents and smudges that you can only fill in with so much coconut.

So: lamingtons! Very Australian, very tasty, but very messy. By the time I'd made the bastards I was so cranky that I didn't want to eat them. Now there's another Diet Baking Tip: Bake something so convoluted and frustrating that you'd rather throw it at a wall than eat it! 

FAIR-DINKUM AUSSIE LAMINGTONS

Source:  The Grandmothership

Makes:  24  (or 12 bigguns if you are greedy, or just too lazy to go on)

For the cake

125 g butter

125 g caster sugar

1 tsp vanilla essence

3 eggs

250 g self-raising flour

1/4 cup milk

Preheat oven to 180°C (350°F). Grease and line a rectangular tin (30 x 22 cm approx) or two loaf tins. Cream butter, sugar and vanilla together until light and fluffy. Add eggs one at a time, beating well. Add flour and milk alternately, beat well. Pour into tin(s), smooth surface with a spatula. Bake for 30 minutes or until risen and firm. Allow to stand for a few minutes then turn out onto a rack. Once cooled, refrigerate cake at least 30 minutes before icing. 

For the icing

125 ml boiling water

3 heaped tablespoons cocoa powder

2 tablespoons softened butter

1 tsp vanilla

500 g pure icing sugar, sifted

250 g dessicated coconut

Mix water, cocoa, butter and vanilla togeter in a bowl over a saucepan of hot water. Gradually beat in icing sugar to form a smooth mixture. Trim cake edges and cut into 24 cubes, or less if you want bigger lamingtons. Place coconut onto a tray or dish ready for rolling. Using a fork, dip cake into icing then toss in the coconut. Leave on a cake rack to dry for a wee while.

NB: I tend to use slightly less water so the icing is thicker if doing the whole cake method, as opposed to the fondue-esque technique.

The Offal Truth

This post was imported from my short-lived, now-defunct food blog, Cooking With Ginger.

January 25 is Burns Night, where Scots eat haggis, drink whisky and recite the poetry of Robert Burns to celebrate his birthday.

I've never been to a proper Burns Supper but it does sound good, particularly The Entrance of the Haggis. Everyone stands up and gazes in awe as the mighty bag o' guts and spices is carried into the room on a platter, complete with bagpipe fanfare. Then the host recites the Address To A Haggis: 

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,

Great chieftain o' the puddin-race!

Aboon them a' ye tak your place, 

Painch, tripe, or thairm:

Weel are ye wordy o' a grace

As lang's my arm.

Which roughly translates as: Oh haggis, you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind, hey haggis! 

After the poem goes on a few more verses, the haggis is STABBED repeatedly with a juicy big knife and everyone cheers. Hail to the haggis! Then someone proposes a whisky toast to the haggis and finally everyone tucks into a nice plateful of it, accompanied by neeps (turnips) and tatties (mashed potatoes). After that there's more speeches, toasts, poetry and whisky. Sounds like a great night out. 

For foreigners living in Scotland, eating haggis is right up there on your To Do list with Edinburgh Castle and the Highlands. I was surprised to find I enjoyed it - sure it's offal but the spices and oatmeal give it a beautiful flavour and texture. I'm not sure if I'd ever want to make it myself though:

You have to love any recipe that contains the phrases, "wash the paunch", "boil the heart", "hang the windpipe" and "grate the liver". I was fresh out of lungs tonight, so we had the ever-tasty Macsweens Vegetarian Haggis. It has the same yummy spices as the traditional version, but the offal is replaced by lentils and nuts. You simply wrap it in foil, place in a water bath then whack it in the oven for an hour or so. 

Next you prepare the traditional neeps and tatties. And if you're immature, do take time to snigger at your neep if it looks particularly nippy! 

Then take the haggis oot of the oven and stab it. KILL KILL KILL! 

This is the part in food blogs where ones posts a photo of the plated meal. But since this is my first food blog entry and I am a food blog amateur, I forgot to do that and just scoffed it straight up. After that starch-and-lentil fest, all we can do is slump on the couch and toast Mr Burns with almighty belches.

Mrs Feta

I don't want to write about Feelings and Issues today. This is not to say I have resolved all my Feelings and Issues vis-a-vis my blubber, in fact I've had a few dazzling Lightbulb Moments lately. But I am tired of the public introspection, and feel increasingly conscious that between my two blogs there's a vast portion of my brain archived on the Goog for the world to see. So right now I just feel like figuring things out in my head and quietly getting on with it.

Instead we could talk about porridge, and how I've become obsessed with it. I used to loathe the stuff, but then SC whipped some up last weekend and I discovered it was actually quite delicious. Now I'm zapping it in the microwave when I get to work each morning, the perfect antidote to half an hour's chilly trek to the train station. It takes about four minutes, with four pauses to stir. Sometimes I'll have it with banana, other times I'll chuck in a chopped up apple for the last minute of cooking. You can pretend it's apple crumble. I use chunky Tesco Organic Oats and all milk - no water, because watery porridge makes it feel like prison rations.

I've also been making a few old Weight Watchers recipes. When I say old I'm talking 1985 old. My mother used to be a WW leader, or lecturer as they were called in those days. (Lecturer conjures up lovely images of some dowdy old marm at the scales, wagging a finger at a poor woman who ate an extra orange or Imitation Bacon Bit). Mum was a brilliant leader, and often cooked WW recipes at home and brought them in to show the members - healthy cakes, slices, savouries. Sometimes she'd even do live cooking demonstrations. Once she brought in the electric frypan and showed the class how to stir fry without any fat. My sister and I were her able assistants. I still remember the smell of the hot carrots and gently toasting sesame seeds, and the scchhhhhhhhhhhh sound when I knocked over the huge glass jar of seeds and they scattered all over the floorboards. I remember looking at the ladies in their semi-circle of metal chairs. Did they want to drop to their knees and gobble up those seeds? Did they wonder how many Optional Kilojoules they contained?

Ahh, happy days. I think that's why Weight Watchers never hooked me years later when I became a member myself. The leaders never razzle-dazzled like my Mum.

Anyway, she had us cooking the dinner from about age seven, so dozens of ancient WW recipes are imprinted on my skull. Like Pita Pizzas, Balti Beef, and Pineapple Upside Down Cake. One old standard was the Spinach Pie. I wouldn't dare call it Spanikopita for fear of Argy hunting me down, it's hardly authentic Greek fare. But it's easy, healthy and delicous

SPINACH PIE

1. Get a huge bunch of spinach (we often had silverbeet because that's what was in the garden) and chop it up into fine pieces. Or use a large pack of defrosted frozen spinach, but squeeze all the water out.
2. Dump that in a bowl along with a finely chopped onion onion, a large tub of low fat cottage cheese, two eggs, and generous gratings of cracked black pepper and nutmeg.
3. Get a big baking dish, brush it with skim milk then plonk down on a sheet of filo pasty. You know the drill with filo pastry - lubricate between layers! Traditionally you'd use melted butter or oil but Mum used skim milk and it works just fine. I use a canola spray if really lazy.
4. Once you have a two or three base layers, spread the spinach mix over the top.
5. Add a few more layers of filo. Don't forget the lube.
6. I usually score the pastry at this point into 8 slices, makes it easier to serve later.
7. Bake for about 40 minutes in a moderate oven or until golden.

I made this when I first moved in with SC after not eaten it for about 15 years. We had it so many times growing up that I vowed never to go near it again. But the need to find interesting vegetarian meals made me revisit. Now I use a smaller tub of cottage cheese and a 200g block of crumbled feta cheese, because I freaking LOVE feta and would leave SC and marry feta if it was socially acceptable.

You can do it without the pastry if carbs offend you. And you can add some chopped dill or parsley to give it even more flavour. I've also successfully made it with broccoli and cauliflower, because I accidentally bought 3 x 1.5kg bags of broccoli & cauliflower florets in a tragic online grocery shopping incident. You just steam up a whole bunch then chop it up finely and add to the cheese/egg mixture. Sometimes I even just stab it with my stab blender instead of chopping, because I am lazy and just like the stabbing action. Rarrr!

...

All hail the Scottish Companion! While I've been busy being lazy, he scanned that Cosmopolitan story for me. He's a good egg.

It's not the most bedazzling thing ever written but groovy all the same. It's also the same photo as the Grazia story as I am not the type of person that a magazine would fly to the other side of the world just to snap their picture, mwahah. ( Behold,   Page 1 and     Page 2.)

The issue came out while we were in Australia, so I had the hysterical experience of seeing people reading it on the train or at the beach. On our last day in Melbourne we were in the queue at Safeway when SC poked me  - the chick in front of us was buying the magazine. I wanted to tap her on the shoulder as she flipped through the pages and say, "Hey, look on page 257. It's me! YES, me right here behind you, the chick who lost all that weight." Except I had two blocks of Cadbury's and a bag of Cherry Ripes in my basket.

The Blahs

Just a quickie to reassure you that I am still here and still doing well. I am just tired as hell and lack the imagination to come up with an entry today. I have this big list of Things To Write About On Dietgirl but I cannae be arsed today!

I went to the gym three times last week and ate very well so it's all going very well. Feeling very motivated in that department. It's just the rest of my life I'm ever so slightly stressed about. The Future and other family thingies. It's just over four tiny wee months now til I get booted out of Britain. I am starting to get antsy. Tearful goodbyes or trying to organise a wedding in a week? Who knows?

So, anyway. Until I feel more energetic here's a small list of Things To Do With Quinoa.

Cook half a cup or so in water or vegetable stock according to the packet directions then toss with any of these combinations:

1. Diced cucumber, diced spanish (red) onion and crumbled feta cheese
2. Oven-roasted mushrooms, chunks of butternut squash (pumpkin) and zucchini (courgette), topping with a tiny sprinkle of parmesan if you're game
3. Steamed broccoli florets, chopped cooked chicken breast, dollop of green pesto and juice of half a lemon
4. Oven-roasted onions, green and red peppers and cherry tomatoes plus a handful of black olives

All good served hot or cold, always add heaps of freshly ground black pepper.

Oh! Almost forgot. A few people asked if the Scottish Companion discovered the site after I just about flashed it in his face. It seems he has not, bless his daydreamy unobservant soul!

Muffin Licker

I had left a few of The Muffins at home for my sister to eat. She's a big fan of them and doesn't have to take my All Or Nothing approach to lose weight. Last night after the gym I was ravenous, even after a generous dinner. I was in the kitchen doing the dishes, taking sneaky glances at the big red tin that I knew had a good three muffins inside it.

C'MON! OPEN ME! the tin was taunting me.

So I did. I just stared at them for about ten minutes thinking What Would Oprah Do? Well it was after 7pm so she wouldn't eat carbs. Or would she? Is she still on that No Nocturnal Carbs thing? Or would she eat the freakin' muffin and just get her Exercise Guru to bust her arse harder the next day?

So then I thought, What Would Michael Phelps Do? He would eat the muffin, coz his races were over and he had 6 gold medals and now chicks would want to sleep with him even though he's not entirely good looking.

Then I thought, What Would Dr Gillian McKeith Do? She would throw the muffin at my head and make me one out of aduki beans and seaweed.

So What Did Dietgirl Do? I thought about how good I'd been and what a workout I'd had at the gym and how I ate muffins in the past and still lost weight and who knows how long it would before I'd have the opportunity to eat such a delicious muffin? But then I thought how I was on a roll and working hard to kick the sugar cravings and I was kidding myself to think I'd eat one muffin then not want six slices of buttered toast and a hot chocolate nightcap.

I decided what I would do was lick the muffin. I'd see if it was good as I remembered, and proceed from there.

Now that I read that sentence I realise how it ranks among the stupidest ideas I've ever had.

My hand was still dotted with detergent bubbles as I lifted up the smallest remaining muffin. I briefly swiped my tongue at the bottom. I felt the brief tickle of crumbs but couldn't taste a thing.

You bloody idiot, I said aloud. I couldn't believe I just licked a muffin! I didn't want the muffin! There would be other muffins in my life. For now, I chose not to eat muffins.

So I sawed half an inch off the muffin stump and put the unlicked bit back in the tin.

Here is the recipe for those who asked.

Dietgirl's Decidedly Non-Diet Choc Banana Muffins

Makes:  12 muffins
Calories:  8000 each (approx)

INGREDIENTS
200g butter
100g brown sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
4 ripe medium-size bananas, mashed
400g plain (all-purpose) flour
2 teaspoons bicarb soda *
1 teaspoon salt **
1 cup chocolate bits ***

METHOD
1.  Preheat oven to 180' C (350' F).
2.  Cream butter and sugar til light and fluffy.
3.  Add eggs and vanilla, stir til combined and even lighter and fluffier.
4.  In a separate bowl, sift flour, salt and bicarb together.
5.  Gradually fold flour mix into creamed mixture along with bananas and chocolate until JUST combined. Do not over mix otherwise your muffins will be tough and dry and you will not get that fleeting sense of validation that comes from giving people good muffins.
6.  Plop mixture into muffin tray that you have spritzed with cooking spray.
7.  Bake for 20 minutes. Leave in the tray for awhile to admire their clunky beauty then turn out to cool.
8.  GIVE THEM AWAY. DO NOT EAT THE TASTY LITTLE BASTARDS! ****

* That's baking soda to you Americans

** I've always left out the salt and had no problems.

** My corner store is always sold out of choc bits so I usually get 2 x 100g blocks of Green & Blacks Darker Shade of Milk Chocolate. I smash one up into tiny pieces with a rolling pin (mental note: buy food processor) and just break the other into the usual squares, so you get a good mix of chocolate flecks throughout with the occasional hefty melty chunk.

**** Optional.

Attack of the Blahs

I don't know what else to say except that this is all really hard. I need to cut back to one job, I have been working these 6/7 day weeks for too long. Nine months, in fact. I have two days off this whole month. That is just stupid. We needed to do this for our Russia/Scandi trip -- our Monday - Friday temp jobs don't pay enough to fund such a big trip. We tried to find better paid jobs that used our qualifications, but it's hard to when employers know you're here for a limited time. Two jobs was the only option.

But when we get back, something has to give. My sister and I are always tired, cranky, listless. It has been a struggle to keep our health/fitness regime going. Most days we just want to sleep. We have a week or so of great food and exercise, full of inspiration, but then we'll work 14 days in a row and lose our momentum.

I know people have multiple jobs and kids and all sorts of problems, so I am not pulling a "poor me" here. I am just saying I am tired. I am tired of being upbeat and optimistic one moment then paralysed with fatigue and gloom the next.

Anyway. Until I think of a better way to work I am just going to try and slowly chip away at this blubber. I am trying to get some walking in as well as the gym. It didn't get dark until after 10 last night. I love the Northern Hemisphere summers.

I bought a skirt from H&M on Friday. Only £10! That's cheap even translated back into Australian dollars. You may recall my tears in H&M a year ago, when I could only fit into their size 24 jeans. This skirt is an 18, so that was a pleasant surprise.

I feel so flat and blah, I can't pretend to be excited by this stuff at the moment. I know I could have bought that skirt six months ago and it would have fit. I really haven't lost a damn thing this year. I keep writing these kind of entries, have you noticed? It's this endless cycle of motivation then moping.

But don't think I am giving up. I just need to figure out how to change my situation.

...

Recipe Corner

Better put in something non-whiny so you don't all think I am pathetic and never come back. Made a nice quick dinner for my dear boy last night. I'm always struggling to come up with vegetarian fayre with my limited imagination, but then I remembered something one of my beloved Aussie friends used to make.

Salsa Thingy

3 tomatoes, chopped
1 avocado, chopped
1 small red onion or 3 spring onions, chopped
1 can red kidney beans, rinsed and drained
1 tablespoon cumin powder (more if you like it spicy)
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
handful chopped fresh coriander
juice of a lime or lemon, or a generous lug of the bottled stuff
ground black pepper to taste

Mix all that up in a bowl, cover and let the flavours mingle for a hour or so. Then serve in some tortillas with lettuce, grated cheese or whatever you feel like. Or serve as a side with a grilled chicken breast and some salad greens if your boyfriend is a carnivore. Or just eat on its own. Very summery and light and quick! Hurrah.