New Year's Eve

If I did nothing else today I had to write the final blog of 2011. New Year's Eve to me is like a religious festival. Having got past the age of wild parties and, although it would be nice to spend the evening with good friends, having entered the phase of staying at home with a young child, I use tonight to do all those introspective, contemplative things that I also do on the eve of my birthday and Rosh Hashana (The Jewish New Year).

In previous years I've opened a bottle of wine and ordered a pizza (the last one ever of course, as there's always a diet starting on January 1st). This year I'm too tired to indulge in the wine and the pizza is a total waste of money when I can do grilled cheese on toast with ketchup to similar effect.

I always write my list of New Year's resolutions - some of them have been on the list and remain not done for 30 years. Others have only recently (within the past five years) joined the list but, nevertheless, remain not done. So I could, in theory, just write: All the usual, and leave it at that. But I won't because I love the anticipation and hope that this year, despite the evidence of past experience, I just might be able to become the accomplished person I'd like to be with the self-discipline that I crave.

With two hours to go (I live in GMT+2 which is a small country just east of Europe) I have finally got DD to bed (though not to sleep) and I can give my full attention to the twelve months that lie clean and unspoiled, like a new carpet, before me. This year is an important one as it's the year I turn 50 so in fact I'd like to have myself all ship-shaped and perfected by September. This is the year I prepare myself for the second half of my life (assuming I'm going to live to 100 and why not?). This is the year my DD becomes old enough to start learning how to live her life from my role modelling (now that is scary enough to whip me into action!).

However, contrary to the impression I've given so far in this post, I'm not stupid. I'm not going to be speaking perfect Hebrew and French, playing the piano, have written a novel and a cookery book, lost #kg (mind your own business), and have kept the house sparkling clean, my feet pedicured and my body toned... all by September, or even next New Year's Eve. So my clever plan this year is to activate my Day Zero Project (101 things to accomplish in 1001 days - which is about 2 3/4 years) to start on January 1st 2012, in about one hour's time. Sorted.

Happy New Year to everyone everywhere and may all your resolutions, goals, manifestoes, no-pressure vague ideas, dogmatic anti-New Year's non-resolutions, etc... come true (haha would that it were so easy) be accomplished with much pride and smugness.

All illustrations are from Google images except the happy New Year badge below from We Don't Eat Anything With A Face who's hosting a New Year Resolutions Blog Hop.

The Best Present

Today we upgraded from the 'Bimba' (I don't know what you call it in English - the little red lorry thing) to the big girls' bike. It was a birthday present* from Grandma and Grandpa in London, niftily executed with the help of an  international credit card and my good friend with his car.

I was concerned that I'd not had time to buy a safety helmet for her yet, but as DD can't work the pedals I don't think the bike will be going outside until the spring. At the moment it's for climbing on, squeezing the squeaky duck (in lieu of a horn or bell), and me pushing it for rides up and down the apartment.

*I am very aware that DD didn't get a Hanukkah present from Grandma and Grandpa. I am determined that she is not going to fall into the well known December birthday trap of only one present. It was partly my fault for not having time to get the bike sorted out earlier, but there will be some years when DD's birthday does actually fall on Hanukkah. I'm ready to fight her corner.

Thank You Military Wives

Anyone reading this in the UK will obviously have heard this track. It has made the Number One spot in the UK charts for Christmas and so well deserved. I wanted to share it here for all my non-UK friends to hear and to document an important topical event.

It made me cry. Maybe because I live in a country where most of the men have been in the army and many of them do regular reserve duty for up to a month every year. Sometimes it's routine but at other times, in emergency situations, it can feel as though the northern border or Gaza are as far away as Afganistan.

I cannot imagine what it must be like to live in perpetual fear, as a single parent, while your husband is giving selflessly for the ultimate safety of us all. Thank you Military Wives everywhere, for the sacrifice and thank you these Military Wives for the music.

Latkes

Miscellaneous was the first grown-up word I learned when I changed schools at 11. And I learned how to spell it aswell as its meaning. I'd never heard of it before then and now, 38 years later, it's cropped up as the theme for this week's Recipe Shed from Reluctant Housedad. So, as I'm not doing Christmas Dinner this year (it's the Cinderella thing), I thought I'd give you a recipe for latkes and tell you a bit about them.

Basically they are potato pancakes and, along with sufganiyot (doughnuts), are the traditional food for Hanukkah. The theme is food cooked in oil to remember the miracle of the eternal light in the reclaimed Temple lasting a full eight days instead of only one. The story is that they found only a small amount of oil and it took eight days to get a fresh supply.

Latkes is the Yiddish name, in Hebrew they are called levivot, they are also, as I said, potato pancakes. But whatever language you use, they are delicious, full of calories, and very easy to make.

Latkes

potatoes
onions
eggs
flour
salt and pepper
cooking oil

Grate the potato and onion into a bowl. Mix in some eggs and flour. Season with the salt and pepper.
Put tablespoons of the mixture into the hot oil and fry on both sides until golden brown.
Serve warm with... and here opinions differ.

Traditionally we ate them with meat (corned beef) and pickled cucumbers. Then people started getting trendy and serving latkes with apple sauce and sour cream. There are no rules except to enjoy!

PS We ate ours before I had time to get the camera out so the illustrations are from Google images.

I'm The Christmas Cinderella

When I was a child we didn't celebrate Christmas (much). Well in some ways you couldn't help but celebrate it. There was no school obviously, great TV - The Sound of Music, The Queen's Speech and Morcambe And Wise's Christmas Special - and the radio was full of wonderful carols. As it was a bank holiday we often had the family round for lunch which was absolutely not to be called Christmas Dinner, although my Aunty Rene made a mean steamed fruit pudding which we set alight with brandy. And my mum made her own mince pies.

After lunch we would play pontoon (21) with about eight people sitting round the table each with a pile of matchsticks to wager with. Did I mention that in the morning we were always invited round to our nextdoor neighbours for Christmas drinks and to see their amazing tree?

Of course we did it all at school. Swapping Christmas cards with friends, carol singing in music lessons. The Jewish girls were allowed to opt out of the school Carol Service and gleefully spent the day shopping in Brent Cross. What idiots we were to miss carol singing in St Martin's In The Field by Trafalgar Square. Later as an Old Girl I received an invitation but felt too ashamed to go after opting out all those years. Yes school is definitely wasted on teenagers.

We do Hanukkah. Same but different. I'm preparing to be shot for saying that but, on a superficial level regarding the feel-good factor it's similar. We light candles for eight nights to commemorate the miracle of the oil for the eternal light in the Temple lasting the eight day wait until more could be brought. We give presents because after so many years living alongside Christians we have adopted the custom. (Many diehard families only give the more traditional money - symbolizing the gold coins donated to the Temple I think.) We have our traditional foods of potato pancakes (latkes) and doughnuts (sufganiyot) because they are cooked in oil (see the connection?). The real meaning of Hanuka? Usual joke: they tried to kill us, we won, let's eat.

Yes we do Hanukkah, it's a family affair, it has its own foods and songs, we have Hanukkah Parties... and yet, somehow, at Christmas time I feel like Cinderella not going to the ball. There's a meme going round at the moment called: My Favourite Christmas Song. I was going to join in and offer 'I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas' which I love. I also love almost all the songs on my Kings College Choir Christmas Album which I listen to religiously throughout December. But only in December - other times it just doesn't feel right. However, I came across this on Youtube and it sort of summed up my feelings nicely so I hope you enjoy it.

Not So Silent Night

The 100 Word Challenge from Julia's Place (click to see the other entries) is getting into the Christmas spirit this week with a re-wording of a popular carol on the theme of Christmas Dinner. We all love it and have fond memories of stuffing our faces till we're fit to burst. All the traditional foods, the minions of family and other guests around the table, the excitement of the first carve of the turkey, the brandy alight on the Christmas pudding, the mince pies with coffee afterwards. And, yes a wee drop of Baileys in the coffee, thank you, I only do this on Christmas you know... But how did this fine feast appear on the table? Maybe we should take a moment to remember the cook? The woman, usually, who didn't have such a Silent Night....

Last night, long night
Stuffed the turkey tying it tight
Peeled potatoes setting them right
Round the turkey as squashed as I might
Put in the oven at first light
No wonder I'm looking a fright.

Last night, eternal night
Brussel sprouts taste like shite
But they're still a Christmas rite
I made the pudding to set alight
I was up cooking past midnight
No wonder I'm looking a fright.

Last night, all night
Baked mince pies for carollers' bite
Sausage rolls that always delight
Kitchen cleaned and shining bright
A Bottle of Baileys eased my plight
No wonder I'm looking a fright.

*The picures are from Google Images under Exhausted Woman

Whisky Lovers' Christmas Fruit Cake

Recipe Shed time again and this week it's right up my alley - not. Christmas Recipes! Being Jewish, I'm not cooking up a storm for a festival we don't celebrate (much) so I thought I'd share this fantastic Whisky Lovers' Christmas Fruit Cake recipe with you for pure fun. I didn't write it myself, it went round the internet about five years ago with no name attached. If anyone knows the origin I will be happy to give credit where it is most definitely due. Meanwhile it's too good a recipe to keep to myself for lack of an author.

Check the quality of the whisky!

Ingredients:
8oz self-raising flour
1 cup sugar
1 cup dried fruit
Itsp baking powder
lemon juice
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup butter
4 large eggs
1tsp salt
1 bottle whisky (sample whisky to check quality)

Method:
Take a large bowl. Check whisky again for validity to be sure it is of the highest quality. Pour 1 level cup and drink. Repeat just to make sure.

Turn on electric mixer and beat 1 cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl. Add 1 peastoon of sugar and beat again. Make sure whisky is still ok. Cry another tup. Turn off mixer, break 2 leggs and add to the bowl, then chuck in the cup of fried drute. Mix in the turner, check shisky. If fruit gets stuck in the beaters, pry loose with a screwdriver. sample whisky again to check tonsisticity and to make shure it hasn't gone off.

Next shift 2 cups of salt or something - who cares! Check whisky again. Now sift the lemon juice and strain the nuts. Add 1 babblespoon of brown sugar or whatever colour you can find. Wix mell. Grease oven. Turn cake pan 350 gredees. Don't forget to beat off the turner. Throw the bowl out of the window. Check whisky again and bo to ged.

Note: A rootle of bum say be mubstituted for tthththeee whissssky. The wesults will bill sthe shame.