All posts tagged: food

Starting a Business in your 40s

Oh, how I have missed you, dear Grenglish readers. Although it has been so long since I have posted here, I wonder how many of you are still around. I do still love this space. I miss this space. This tiny corner of the internet that I have claimed and treasured for 5-years has been sorely neglected while I have been off cultivating another corner, a smaller space that I am still trying on for size and taking my time to grow into. When I first started writing Grenglish, it was with the intention that I would one day print it out and give it to my son as a diary of his early years, full of stories about his family and how much he is loved. And, for the most part, I have stayed true to that. Then, a few years ago, I realised that food played such an important part in our family. Or, more specifically, Yiayia’s food. So, together with my sister-in-law, we took on the enormous task of documenting all of Yiayia’s favourite recipes, which we originally thought we would turn into an e-book that could …

Enough with the eating madness

As I sit here typing, I am idly picking at the last of the festive macaroons so that they are all ‘gone’ by the new year, which I plan to sing in with a belly full of curry and sparkling wine. Over the past month, I have also quietly polished off endless mince pies, chocolates, cheese boards, pate on homemade breads, pigs in blankets, crisps, nuts, olives and crackers. Biscuits, turkey, roast potatoes, cake, edible christmas tree ornaments and leftover sandwiches. Cheese pies, creamy pastas and toast soaked in real butter. Even my ‘big’ jeans have had enough and are refusing to zip up until the eating madness stops. I have been avoiding the scales since September, after an over indulgent summer that drifted into Autumn and now Winter. I have been ignoring the tightness of the denim kneading my thighs, and pretending the double chin I see in photos is the result of a bad angle. The truth is, there are no good angles at the moment. You can no longer see my cheek bones because I have stuffed my …

Lunching with Ladies

I have been feeling spectacularly down this week.  I think it is a mixture of a hangover from the summer, my son starting Year 1, the beginnings of a cold, and getting my period. Nothing major, and I feel guilty for even mentioning it here when there are people close to me having so much of a harder time of life right now.  But, there I was, feeling sorry for myself and needing a bit of a boost, when the universe took note and sent some light relief my way. I have never really taken full advantage of working from home and how this lends itself quite naturally to meeting friends for lunch, but this week I had two lunches with two ladies. The first was with T. I met T in Australia when we were both in our twenties.  I was living with a guy, who worked with her best friend (now also one of mine!), and our paths crossed at a few parties from time to time.  However, it was when I moved back to London and T came over on …

Sponsored Video Trailer: Chef

There’s a new feel-good comedy out this summer called Chef, which I am itching to see. It is written and directed by Jon Favreau and stars Robert Downey Jr., Scarlett Johansson, Sofia Vergera and Dustin Hoffman, to name but a few. The story starts with Chef Carl Casper, also played by Jon Favreau, who has the chance to show-off his fancy culinary skills to the most important restaurant reviewer in the city. However, the owner (Dustin Hoffman) refuses to let Carl serve any of the new dishes he has created and insists he cooks from the classic menu instead. The critic ends up totally panning the restaurant in his review and throws in a personal insult to Carl, who then takes to Twitter to vent his anger, tracks the reviewer down, and publicly berates him for what he said about him. As is the way these days, everyone within earshot pulls out a camera phone, posts a video online, and Carl becomes an overnight social media sensation when the video goes viral! After he loses his …

A Weekend in Tarragona

I went to Spain a couple of weeks ago for a child-free/husband-free weekend away to celebrate my sister-in-law’s upcoming nuptials. The Greek God(zilla) was at home with the solo parenting gig, which is code for moving into his parents house for the weekend.  Solo parenting for my husband usually involves a visit to his mum’s, where the only requirement of him is to lie down, drink beer and read the papers while Yiayia happily entertains her grandson. This arrangement actually suits me too, as it reassures me that they will both return home well-fed and watered; and probably with enough food to stock our freezer for an entire month. There was much excitement in the run-up to our Spanish getaway.  Many messages were sent back and forth between the bride-to-be and myself, discussing how many pairs of shoes to pack, nail polish colours to take, adapters, towels, swimsuits, baggage requirements, boarding passes, wine, make-up, hair straighteners and snacks for the plane. Unfortunately we copied in the Greek God(zilla)’s other sister, BB, on every single one of them, which would have …