Thursday, September 8, 2011

Rachel Zoe,Toddlers and Tiaras

My switch off and zone out TV indulgence tonight was The Rachel Zoe Project followed by two episodes of Toddlers and Tiaras.

There is something about Rachel Zoe that I really like and I think I want to be her. Or should I say to be like her.
Here's the thing - everything she says includes a despairing sense of doom and gloom. One cannot tell whether it's a positive doom/gloom thing or truly a disastrous one. You would usually study someones expression to gather a clue as to which, however Zoe only has two expressions.
Those are; one: with sun glasses and two: without sunglasses. It is tough to decipher.
Example one: "Oh my goodness it makes me so, soooo's sooooooooo good."
Example two: "Oh my goodness it makes me so, like sooooooooooo mad........I just don't know."
She would be an incredible spy because you really cannot tell what she means. Plus, no matter how busy her schedule is, there is always a scene of Zoe and her gay possibility husband in white bathrobes calling one another babe.

My recommendation for Zoe would be to watch "Toddlers in Tierahs That Their Mothers Wish They Had Really Won For Themselves".

Those characters are all over the town with their expressions, winks, falsies and the classic pout, kiss and wave. Of course that's what attractive people do all day. Pout, wink, kiss and wave. Where on the sprayed sun tan planet did anyone think those over extended actions look good? It's like watching the seven dwarves, pumped up on Red Bull doing sign language for idiots.
Whats worse, the camera swings into the audience and you experience all the Mums/Dads (toothless, tight t-shirt, big earring types) all doing the ridiculous moves. AND, what's worse than that, is, I catch myself mimicking the moves and some of them I can't even do. How do they manage that irritating head bobbing thing? I challenge any of you to watch without trying it for yourself.

I also HAVE TO share that tonight featured a three year old girl, struggling, while a giant ferret hair enhancement was pinned to her head. Then the kid bashed her forehead on the door causing a big bruise, despite the reinforcement of the wig! On top of that the mother was not pleased with a fifth place trophy they received. "I don't even want that," she spat. I so longed for the kid to scream "Oh grow up!"
This poor kid had been pinned, tackled, whacked and it was her mother who was sulking! OH and did I mention she was also scared witless when she came face to face with someone in a costume of the big bad wolf? What an episode for us and what a ton of future therapy from just one day in this three year old's glittery life.
AND don't get me started with the kid who danced as Julia Roberts in "Pretty have to be a Prostitute Woman" style - including fake leather boots and yellow wig. I was stunned to head bobbing silence.

When I was three, I tap danced as a sun beam to Zip-Dee-Doh-Dah and I was not referring to Zip-Dee-Doh-Dah my fake leather boots!

And as they say, that's show business kid!


Monday, September 5, 2011

Fig Butter Recipes

I am happily surprised when I taste an adult food to discover that it is likable and sweet. Fig butter is a great example.
My friend Karen makes the most elite picnic sandwich you will ever experience. I say experience, because she makes them "live" on a beach with seagulls licking their becks saying "no way!"
The picnic sandwiches I make are two basic slices with something in the middle, not even cut and thrown into a zip lock bag.
Karen arrives with a loaf of freshly baked walnut bread. Then out of a bag we find pots, YES, containers of the sandwich contents. We have balsamic vinegar mixed with Greek olive oil, arugula, ricotta cheese and the now infamous fig butter.

Let me just say that being from London, I was once described as a snob because I bought uncut white bread from a bakery. I was (still am)  in constant need of approval and have never purchased fresh bread since.
Balsamic vinegar, I had never heard of before my emigration, (one imagines I came over on a ship in 1945.) All I knew was malt vinegar on fish and chips. As for arugula, as far as I am concerned, there only exists lettuce. In fact I remember being disappointed once when I ordered something from a menu called curly endive. Come on people, lettuce is lettuce, big green non tasting plants that I pull from my garden and call weeds. Salad is the most successful marketing con there is, that however is another blog!

Anyway, my point is that when Karen offered said fig butter - I was in full child mode and squealed "I don't think I'll like it". You have to understand that my brother and I grew up thinking that pineapples grew in cans.
Our introduction to most things was; that we wouldn't like it, it wouldn't be good for us, or work for us or be worth the effort. Best not to try anything new as defeat would then never be a problem.

"Just try it" Karen suggested convincingly and because I know I am now old enough, I did. Big surprise, fig butter was sweet and not like the burnt moldy avocado I thought it would taste of. I loved it.

One of my first "adult" dinners I had on a date; I ordered steak, as I loved steak. When it arrived, it was not the thin black meat Mum served with mashed potatoes, in fact why on earth was it bleeding? I was horrified and my date must have thought I hated him, for ordering something expensive and then leaving most of it.

Now I have been around for a few restaurant years and tasted stuff that is not like chicken, even when it says it is chicken. I learnt to use chopsticks in Paris, had wild boar in France, octopus in Greece and food poisoning in Bali. I have been privileged to eat in some of the finest restaurants and yet; faced with something new there is still the little kid inside that only wants cake and will always imagine unknown food to taste like sour milk.

Karen beautifully awarded me the whole jar and for six days solid I enjoyed a less than sophisticated version of her sandwich. Mine was balsamic vinegar, fig butter and cheddar cheese. Like a kid at Halloween, I over did it with my mixture amounts, and finally over dosed on Tuesday at 6pm.

Here lies Jayne - content at last, please bury in front of the fridge....with fig butter.........and cake......just in case.

For my Universe

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