tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36753968710223547022023-12-06T09:05:03.402-08:00The Real Mamma Diarieslife as a globe-trotting mum About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.comBlogger75125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-21997952745276838942016-10-21T03:32:00.003-07:002016-10-21T03:32:27.941-07:00Friday Recipe: Fusilli with Broccoli <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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This pasta dish is instagram perfect - but it really does taste as good as it looks. It's a quick and easy way to get one of your five a day too (it's the only way I can get my children to eat their vegetables). I love broccoli and cook it so it's al dente - nothing beats that bit of crunch.<br />
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But you could use any of your favourite vegetables and for you non-vegetarians you could add some anchovies along with some chilli flakes to give it a little kick. This delicious dish, like all my recipes, was created by my celebrity chef <a href="http://www.alexiopasquali.com/" target="_blank">husband </a>but I cook it at least once a week so it's a firm family favourite. Enjoy!<br />
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<b>Ingredients: </b><br />
<b>Prep time </b>15 mins<br />
<b>Cooking time </b>about 10 mins<br />
<b>Serves</b> 4<br />
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Olive oil, a drizzle<br />
400g fusilli<br />
200g broccoli, broken into florets<br />
(Optional) 1 can anchovies, drained and finely chopped<br />
Bunch of basil, roughly chopped<br />
Handful of grated Parmesan<br />
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Bring 2 litres of salted water to the boil, add pasta and cook until al dente.<br />
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In a separate pan of boiling water cook broccoli florets for 5 minutes. Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a pan over medium heat and add anchovies, stirring occasionally until soft.<br />
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Drain pasta and add to the anchovies. Mix. Add broccoli and toss well.<br />
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Serve garnished with basil, season with black pepper and sprinkle grated Parmesan over.</div>
About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-8951561320381107782016-10-18T03:14:00.004-07:002016-10-18T03:14:57.146-07:00Sailing in Style from Dubai on a Six Star Ship <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Clouds in the shape of rabbits and all manner of animals scattered overhead as I lay back by the pool. There was nothing to disturb me except a slight breeze that fluttered the pages of the latest bestseller I was reading.<br />
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Out of the corner of my eye I could see a waiter hovering, ready to bring me another iced drink, snack or cold towel. But right now I didn’t need anything except to relax, knowing that in a few hours I would be arriving at some new exotic city or country, without having to set foot inside a plane, train or automobile.<br />
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That’s because I was travelling in six-star style on the Regent Seven Seas Voyager, one of a small fleet of ships billed as the most luxurious ever built.<br />
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I’d simply stepped on board in Dubai and was now headed to Salalah, in Oman, via Fujairah and Muscat for a four-day cruise as part of the Kingdoms of the Sun tour. ‘You’ll be treated like a queen,’ I was told by a friend who’d already taken the trip. And so far they were right.<br />
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From the moment I’d walked up the gangway, I’d been stunned by the decor – think crystal chandeliers, sumptuous carpets your heels sink into, wooden panelling and gold, sweeping balustrades reminiscent of those on board Titanic though no one likes to mention that ship while at sea.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The grand entrance of the Regent Seven Seas Voyager</td></tr>
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The ship is small by cruise standards – it holds just 700 passengers and 447 crew – but every inch is elegance redefined. Many of the passengers are on their third or fourth cruise with the company, while a lucky 100 or so are on The Grand Voyage where they boarded in Tokyo and will spend 87 nights sailing all the way to Southampton.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Seven Seas Voyager and Explorer are two of a six star fleet</td></tr>
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Dubai is around halfway and everyone already on board has a tan and a relaxed routine by the time I join them: breakfast at 8am, then sunning by the pool during sea days and shore excursions to explore new cities while at port.<br />
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Within a few hours I realised this was the good life – you can travel without the hassle. There are no airports to rush to, no hotels to check into and out of, no luggage to keep packing and unpacking, and no restaurants or entertainment to book. Everything you’ll ever need is right here on board and you can just enjoy your time at sea and wake up in a different country most days. Here’s why you should join the sailing set...<br />
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<b>The suite life</b><br />
Every cabin on board this fleet puts most five-star hotel rooms to shame. Bigger than a lot of master suites on terra firma, mine came with a marble bathroom with full-size walk-in shower and bath, a double bed, flat screen TV, sofa, desk and – every woman’s dream – a dressing room.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The suites on board the Explorer are bigger than most hotels</td></tr>
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There’s a mini bar that is restocked daily, fruit, and a steward on call 24/7 to cater to your every whim. I tested mine – Heydi – to the limit and she never failed a challenge. My shoes have broken! ‘Here’s superglue, tape and a pair of scissors.’ They were back in action within minutes. I wanted more L’Occitane bathroom products and a basket brimming with shower gel, shampoo and conditioner swiftly arrived. She showed me how to order round-the-clock room service, the laundry room where I could wash and dry clothes free of charge, and the 150 latest on-demand movies.<br />
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And did I mention the huge double bed? It was so comfortable I was rocked to sleep by the waves as soon as I clambered into it every night.<br />
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<b>Fine Dining</b><br />
There are four first-class restaurants on board with constantly changing menus so even those on The Grand Voyage wouldn’t be offered the same dish twice. But even before you set foot on the ship the company asks for your dining preferences. I’m a vegetarian and yet there were plenty of options for me at every restaurant.<br />
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The Compass Rose is straight from the set of Titanic where Rose has a tense lunch with her mother over her upcoming marriage, but there are no terse mutterings here. Smiling waiters and an uber-friendly maître d’ serve up mouthwatering international dishes such as crostini with grilled portobello mushrooms and roasted peppers or glazed baby back ribs for the meat lovers. Zuppa Inglese was a firm favourite even though I’d never had the custard dessert with meringue back in my native England.<br />
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There was a degustation menu for those with a hearty appetite consisting of vitello tonanato – roasted veal with tuna sauce and gremolata – clam pasta and grilled Norwegian salmon with Loire Valley beurre blanc and strawberries.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">The menu is constantly changing on The Grand Voyage <br /></td></tr>
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My favourite eatery was the Italian Sette Mari at La Veranda, where I feasted on creamy burrata and tomatoes, and ate ricotta and spinach cannelloni almost as good as my (Italian chef) husband makes at home.<br />
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A buffet breakfast is held here too, with healthy options as well as the full fry-up that the American guests on board had warned me about: ‘Too delicious,’ they all mumbled, piling their plates high. ‘We’ve already put on 5kg since boarding.’ I ordered a boiled egg with toast soldiers and it was delivered to my table just how I like it – with the yolk still runny.<br />
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The other two restaurants, Signatures and Prime 7, are a fine French eatery and a steakhouse and require reservations. Luckily I booked both as soon as I boarded because they were full every night. The menus rival top French and steak restaurants here in Dubai, and if, like me, you ask for a table by the window you’ll enjoy ever changing views.<br />
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<b>Hassle-free exploring</b><br />
Who needs to worry about flights or train schedules, when you can just get on a ship in Dubai and sail your way in luxury to your final destination via myriad exciting places?<br />
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I simply hopped on in Dubai for a tour which would finally end up in Barcelona, Spain, three weeks later.<br />
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On my short sojourn the Voyager stopped in Fujairah. It’s the only emirate situated entirely along the Gulf of Oman and is striking with its jagged Hajar mountains and valleys swooping down to palm-fringed beaches.<br />
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Off-shore excursions include visiting the Heritage Village where you can learn how people made a living here years ago fishing in boats made from palms.<br />
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You can also explore the fort, which is more than 350 years old and was the first stone building along the coast, and although badly damaged, is still open to the public. It was home to the ruling family, and is near a museum that houses fascinating artefacts found in archaeological digs in the area. Pieces of bronze, silver and gold, weapons, and coins are all on display.<br />
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Al Badiyah Mosque is built from mud and local stone and is the oldest mosque in the UAE, dating back to the 15th century. Below the four domes, supported by a single pillar, are stone carvings on the wall and niches for the Quran.<br />
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After a gorgeously relaxing night at sea the ship arrived in Muscat, Oman where we docked before breakfast.<br />
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There’s plenty on offer in the capital. For those who want to immerse themselves in the heritage, you can take a cruise on an Omani dhow or, for nature lovers, take a speedboat to look for dolphins, which will always appear apparently, or if you’re feeling energetic, go snorkelling.<br />
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Then it’s full sail for Salalah – the perfume capital of Arabia thanks to its abundance of frankincense trees lining wadi courses down the mountains.<br />
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Here you can just enjoy the beach for the day or go on an Arabian Heritage tour to see Taqa Castle, the Fort and famous fruit stalls at Montazah Street where you quench your thirst with coconut water. There are so many coconuts here, the onboard daily newsletter, Passages told me, that in ancient times they used coir from the thick husk to stitch the planking on the traditional boats used in the Western Indian Ocean.<br />
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<b>Impeccable Service</b><br />
Living in the UAE we are all used to first-class service, but the crew on board the Voyager took it to another level. Nothing was ever too much trouble, every thing was done with a flourish and a smile but the service was also unobtrusive. From the cleaners to the captain this was a happy ship and it showed. Ordering off menu? Of course – the chef will come out of the kitchen and discuss creating a bespoke menu. Want a salad and ice tea but can’t be bothered to actually fetch it? ‘Let us know where you’re sunbathing and we’ll bring it to you.’<br />
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This is the ship where divas are no doubt born, but I forced myself to get up and experience everything on board because there was so much more than just eating and sailing through the sleek, cool waters of the Arabian Gulf and Arabian Sea.<br />
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<b>First-class entertainment</b><br />
From comedians, magicians, enrichment lecturers, karaoke, dance classes and musical shows, there is always something interesting going on somewhere on the ship - if you can tear yourself away from the pool.<br />
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An American couple I met went from complete beginners to ballroom dancers performing some complicated moves after taking lessons on board.<br />
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There are also more cerebral activities – quizzes, card games, mah-jong, bridge, and tea-time trivia (along with an afternoon tea complete with finger buffet and delicious cakes), not to mention croquet, shuffleboard, and paddle tennis.<br />
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For pampering, head to the Canyon Ranch spa club, which has everything from jet-lag recovery massages to Ayurveda treatments and facials.<br />
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You can watch shows in the theatre, or meet the captain at his reception (or in the corridor for a fun ‘meet thy neighbour’ party where the captain rushes around the ship) or simply be serenaded in the observation lounge on the top deck while watching the sun slide below the horizon.<br />
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After packing a fortnight’s worth of activities into a mini-break I was sad to dock in Salalah, ready for my flight home. But I’m already looking forward to the next time the Voyager sails into Dubai to see where I’ll be cruising in style to next…</div>
About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-32854757962867091502016-10-14T05:06:00.000-07:002016-10-14T05:07:22.769-07:00Warm Aubergine Stack with Basil Pesto and Mozzarella<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Winter's coming and it's finally time to start thinking about cosy, hearty - but show-stopping- suppers. This aubergine stack looks as good as it tastes and is perfect as a dinner party starter or a main for all the family.<br />
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I'm a life-long vegetarian but even my carnivorous family like this dish. Devised by my chef <a href="http://www.alexiopasquali.com/" target="_blank">husband </a>it's a quick and easy twist on another favourite Melanzane Parmigiana. When we serve this, there's always smiles all round. It's rustic and fills the house with the most incredible aromas - my husband says the smell reminds him of his childhood in Italy.<br />
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So it may be cold outside, but this is enough to warm anyone's heart...<br />
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<b>Serves</b> 2<br />
<b>Prep time </b>5 mins<br />
<b>Cooking time </b>15 mins<br />
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<b>Ingredients</b><br />
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1 large aubergine, sliced into 6 thick pieces, kept in water to prevent discolouration<br />
Olive oil, to drizzle<br />
Coarse salt and freshly crushed black pepper<br />
Chunky tomato sauce, as desired<br />
Basil pesto, as desired<br />
1 ball of fresh mozzarella, torn into pieces<br />
Fresh basil leaves, torn, as desired<br />
Pomegranate seeds, to garnish<br />
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Remove the aubergine pieces from the water and pat dry. Drizzle generously with olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Pan-fry until seared.<br />
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Preheat the oven to 180°C. Spoon some tomato sauce and pesto into a cast-iron skillet, then place a slice of aubergine on top. Add more sauce and pesto, along with a piece of mozzarella and a few torn basil leaves. Repeat the process to create three layers of aubergine, covering the top layer with cheese.<br />
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Create two stacks and place the skillet in the preheated oven. Cook until the cheese melts. Remove from the skillet and place on a plate. Serve warm, garnished with fresh basil and pomegranate seeds.</div>
About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-35426834567523793952016-10-11T08:48:00.000-07:002016-10-11T08:48:21.626-07:00Trying out the Rat Race at Disneyland Paris<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It’s fast, it’s 4D, is rumoured to have cost $270 million and was created by the people behind the Oscar-winning film Ratatouille. I join the rat race trying out the latest ride at Disneyland Paris<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's nothing cheesy about Disney's £270 million 4D experience </td></tr>
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A six-metre-long fish dangles from the pantry roof, a pungent odour of cooking making my nostrils twitch. Shivering, I pull my jacket tighter around me, trying to ignore the dozens of shiny rats’ eyes blinking in the gloom. But they aren’t the enemy – they are hiding, like me, from the fury of Chef Skinner, the villain in the Oscar-winning Disney Pixar film Ratatouille that has now been turned into a 4D attraction at Walt Disney Studios Park in Disneyland Paris.<br />
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Costing a rumoured $270 million, Ratatouille the Adventure has been five years in the making, basically because the technology didn’t exist for the ride, based on Remy, the star of the animated movie who wants to become a renowned French chef.<br />
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The ride is in a corner of the theme park’s Toon Studio, which has been turned into Remy’s Paris – there’s the ride, his 370-seater restaurant, and a shop, selling Ratatouille merchandise. La Place de Remy is all too familiar, transported magically from the movie into bricks and mortar, with pretty tinkling fountains and hand-tended gardens.<br />
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But the real magic starts on the way into the ride, where we’re handed 3D glasses, ‘shrunk’ to the size of rats, and then become an integral part of the action as animation, electronics and imagination collide. Transporting riders across Parisian rooftops, there’s a heart-stopping drop through the skylight of legendary chef Gusteau’s restaurant as we follow Remy in an entirely new story, created by Brad Bird, the writer and director of the 2007 hit.<br />
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Disney and Pixar worked together to create ‘wrap around 3D’, trackless ‘rat mobiles’, and 4D sensory experiences to make the 60th ride at Europe’s number one tourist attraction the most technologically advanced yet. (Last year 14.9 million visitors passed through the French theme park, which is twice as many as went to the Eiffel Tower, and Disney bosses are expecting a big return on their Ratatouille investment.)<br />
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We’re one of the first families invited to try the ride and race to be at the front of the queue after the ribbon is cut at a VIP-studded inaugural ceremony.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We were one of the first families invited to try the new ride</td></tr>
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Laughing, we grab our glasses, jump on board a rat mobile, and vanish across rooftops towards the restaurant. Hurtling along, we’re at the heart of the story, seeing it from a rodent’s point of view as Remy tries to escape the clutches of the diminutive but intimidating chef Skinner. “Look Mamma, they’re bigger than us,” my six-year-old daughter says, pointing to the band of furry, giant rodents surrounding us in the food locker.<br />
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“Oh rats, honey,” I murmur, nudging my husband Alex. “We’ve shrunk the kids.” But he’s too engrossed in the ride, ducking from the (very real) heat as we scuttle under a giant oven, gasping as we’re sprayed with water from a mob, and wrinkling his nose as smells of cooking waft towards us. <br />
We all shriek as a giant hand suddenly tries to grab us but we manage to dodge it and speed away, under tables, through waiters’ feet, until we find ourselves – breathless, but safe – back on the rooftops overlooking the French capital’s unique Haussmannian architecture.<br />
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“That was brilliant,” grins my 11-year-old son. “Can we go again?” I look at the smiles on the faces of my husband and kids and nod. We duck into the very next rat mobile and into a new adventure – scores of different stories and scenarios were filmed so the ride changes every time. “It was even better second time around,” everyone decides afterwards, but all this excitement – and talk of food – has left me hungry.<br />
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Luckily Bistrot Chez Remy is next door. It’s a fine-dining-style restaurant based on the one from the film, where everything is larger than life and Remy’s favourite dishes are on the menu. “I love this sesame oil dressing,” I say, tucking into a crispy salad, while the children try steaks – cooked rare to medium, just how chef Remy recommends – with pomme frites and declare them ‘très bien.’ My husband dines on ratatouille – what else? – polishing off the lot, and then eyes up the trio of desserts while I have a cheese platter with crackers and baguette.<br />
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It’s a world away from theme park food, and worthy of the months of hard work that went into perfecting every dish, to make sure it was up to Remy and the harshest food critic’s review, just like in the movie.<br />
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Stuffed, and still smiling from our earlier crazy culinary adventure, we’re ready to explore the rest of the studio and the neighbouring Disneyland Park.<br />
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So we head off, through Toy Story Playland – trying to ignore the shrieks from RC Racer and dodge the queues for Slinky Dog Zigzag Spin and Toy Soldiers Parachute Drop in Toon Studios – past the Finding Nemo-inspired and frankly stomach-churning Crush’s Coaster (it rotates so sometimes you’re flung up and down a vertiginous track backwards – need I say more?) to ride on the quaintly retro dodgems-style Cars ride, and into the park next door.<br />
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Pausing to take pictures in Main Street USA – with a view straight down to Sleeping Beauty’s pretty pink castle – we glance warily at the grey clouds overhead.<br />
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We were here for three days, so there was enough time to check out our favourite rides – Peter Pan’s Flight, Pirates of the Caribbean, It’s a Small World, and Dumbo the Flying Elephant along with undiscovered ones such as Mad Hatter’s Tea Cups – whatever the weather.<br />
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We’ve been going to Disneyland Paris since our son was a baby, but we’ve never taken our little girl before. “I want to see Mickey Mouse and Minnie,” she says. “And Anna and Elsa from Frozen. Oh, and Belle, Cinderella, Snow White and Aurora from Sleeping Beauty.”<br />
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My tween son, meanwhile, was desperate to check out all the thrills and spills the parks had to offer – Buzz Lightyear Laser Blast, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Peril – while he balks at Space Mountain. “I’m not going on that unless you do,” he says, knowing I’d never be brave enough.<br />
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But I am up for a roller coaster and so we head to Big Thunder Mountain, a runaway train ride on a wooden track, for all the family. “I want to sit in the front with Daddy,” my little girl demands, and promptly regrets it as we plunge into darkness while hurtling down the mountain at full speed.<br />
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“I want to get off,” she yells until we emerge into the sunlight and she realises it is fun to career down the tracks and whistle round the corners. “That was fun,” she grins at the end, and so I decide she is brave enough to tackle the Phantom Manor.<br />
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“There’s nothing scary about this,” she says as we step into a Victorian living room with portraits on the wall. The door closes behind us and the floor begins to sink. Further and further we descend until the portraits have transformed into grisly, gruesome pictures to terrify even the hardiest of adults, and my daughter hides her face in my skirt.<br />
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Inside the gloomy house, we’re told the story of a bride whose groom failed to show up for their wedding. Grief-stricken, she roamed the house for years in her wedding dress and veil, sobbing, until she died.<br />
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“That’s so sad,” my daughter says, while my son rolls his eyes, declaring the lovesick bride story ‘lame.’ He soon changes his mind when we see ghosts dancing before our very eyes and the skeleton of the jilted bride, still in all her bridal attire, jumps out of the darkness to scare us. <br />
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Giggling nervously, we emerge from the gloom, eager to try something more upbeat – and are relieved to hear it is time for the Disney Magic on Parade.<br />
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Clapping along to the well-known songs, we wave to a procession of loved characters from The Lion King, Jungle Book, The Little Mermaid, Finding Nemo, Snow White, Toy Story, and Frozen, now the highest grossing animated movie of all time.<br />
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And then, as the clouds open, we dash to our hotel, the beautiful Disneyland Hotel at the park entrance. It’s pink, has a shop that sells the Anna and Elsa dolls from Frozen that my little girl so wants, and comes with extra hours in the park and a lift direct to the entrance.<br />
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Micky, Minnie, Pinocchio and a host of other Disney characters join us for dinner, and we fall asleep in our Castle Club suite early, ready for the next day.<br />
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After a help-yourself buffet breakfast with Mickey, we head out again, this time with Elma, our VIP tour guide. She’s Dutch, and can speak seven languages, seems like a modern-day Mary Poppins, and most importantly can show us around, take us to the rides we want to discover and lead us straight to the front of the queue on every ride with Fastpass – and to the exit of ones that don’t have it. Most of the big rides have Fastpass, where you can take a ticket for a designated time to bypass the queues, but Elma is our ticket to queueless fun.<br />
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“Where would you like to go first?” she asks as our children rattle off a list. Driving the 50s-style cars at Autopia? No problem – we’re on the track in a jiffy. Blasting aliens on Buzz Lightyear’s Laser Blast? Let’s go! She leads us straight to the front of the snaking line. Peter Pan… Pirates of the Caribbean… – we’re on and off before you can say VIP Fastpass.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the Ratatouille experience </td></tr>
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And then, as we’ve done so many in such a short time, she introduces us to rides we’ve missed in the past – Disneyland Railroad, a cute little train ride that banks around corners and whistles into the station, and Le Pays des Contes de Fées, a gentle boat ride that stops to let us on and serenely sails us past what look like fairy homes and pixie dwellings, as well as little buildings and entire villages inspired by Disney classics.<br />
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The day rushes by in a blur of rides. “I’ll drop you here and see you in an hour and a half,” Elma smiles, taking us to the door of the Auberge de Cendrillon restaurant.<br />
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Inside we’re greeted by Cinderella and Prince Charming and the kids dine on roast chicken with potato dauphinoise, while a procession of princesses come to meet us. My little girl is overawed. Luckily she’s worn her Anna costume, and learns how to hold the edges of her skirt up ‘just like a princess’ when she poses for photographs with Snow White, Belle, and Aurora.<br />
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After dinner Elma reappears and wants to whisk us off to watch Disney Dreams, a show at the end of each day featuring lasers and water jets, but our little girl is falling asleep. “Have a magical sleep,” Elma whispers, and we’re sorry to see her go. Not only has she been our guide, but she’s quickly become a friend too, and a firm favourite with our daughter.<br />
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“I want Elma,” she insists the next morning after another character breakfast. I explain she’s no doubt busy with another family today, and that we only have time for a couple of rides before it’s time to leave. I thought our son would ask to go on the Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster starring Aerosmith, or The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror. I was sure Anais would demand a personal meeting with the characters from Frozen or at least to ride in the parade with Mickey and Minnie. But they both wanted the same thing – one more ride on Ratatouille the Adventure.<br />
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“Time to join the Rat Pack,” I think, heading off back to La Place de Remy. It’s pure thrills and spills for all the family. No cheesiness in sight.<br />
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<i>We were lucky to go to Disneyland Paris on a press trip for the opening of the new experience but all views are my own. </i><br />
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About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-80971050991168597792016-10-07T04:12:00.000-07:002016-10-07T04:12:30.262-07:00Friday Recipe: Goat's Cheese and Spinach Salad <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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After five years of living in Dubai I still can't adjust to the British weather - or seasonal menus. Why do I have to eat soup just because it's October when it's still sunny outside and my tastebuds are crying out for a delicious salad?<br />
This one is fresh, light and packed with flavour. The pomegranate pearls give it a sophisticated edge but it's the simplest dish to prepare and takes all of 10 minutes to make. The recipe was created by my celebrity chef husband <a href="http://www.alexiopasquali.com/" target="_blank">Alexio </a>but my children and I make it all the time. You could add walnuts, almonds, peanuts or any tasty bits and pieces left over in the cupboard to give it even more crunch. Buon Appetito!<br />
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<b>Prep time </b>10 mins<br />
<b>Cooking time </b>5 mins<br />
<b>Serves </b>4<br />
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<b>Ingredients: </b><br />
Splash of olive oil<br />
150g goat’s cheese, cut into roundels<br />
250g bag of baby spinach, washed<br />
250g cherry tomatoes, quartered<br />
Small bag croutons<br />
1 pomegranate, pearls of<br />
Chopped walnuts, as desired<br />
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Heat oil in a frying pan and shallow-fry cheese until slightly golden on both sides. Place on kitchen paper to absorb any excess oil then put in a salad bowl.<br />
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Add the remaining ingredients and toss to mix well. Serve with another drizzle of olive oil.</div>
About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-23853146930106091342016-10-04T02:36:00.002-07:002016-10-04T02:38:17.720-07:00Fast and Luxurious - cruising around Dubai and Abu Dhabi on one of the world's most glamorous ships<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Home to the tallest building in the world and glass towers that feature in a successful Hollywood movie, what better way to explore the UAE’s glitzy emirates – Dubai and Abu Dhabi – than from the luxury of one of the world’s most glamorous ships...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sailing in style on the Europa 2 </td></tr>
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Salt spray whipped through my hair as the boat cut through each wave, rising further and further out of the water when the captain hit the throttle.<br />
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Screams gurgled in my throat but were drowned out by the sound of the engine and nervous laughter as we raced across the Arabian Gulf, sunlight glinting off the blur of futuristic towers that make up the skyline of the Abu Dhabi Corniche.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The futuristic cityscape of Abu Dhabi</td></tr>
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On the way, we’d stopped the speed yellow boat for a glimpse of Emirates Palace, one of the world’s most expensive hotels. But now, we were hurtling along again, literally flying across the top of the waves, bouncing up, then slapping back down at top speed.<br />
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Terrified, I closed my eyes as we slalomed around corners, and the boat rose so far out of the water it felt as if we were about to take off.<br />
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‘What am I doing here?’ I asked myself, my knuckles white as I clung on to the rail. After all, I only lived an hour’s drive down Shaikh Zayed Road in Dubai. But I was here for an exhilarating – and totally opulent – adventure.<br />
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It had started 24 hours earlier, when I walked the red carpet at Dubai’s Port Rashid leading to the Europa 2, one of the world’s most luxurious cruise ships. <br />
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With a five-star-plus ranking by Berlitz Cruising & Cruise Ships 2016 – the third consecutive time the ship got the rating since christening in May 2013 (highest score ever in the Berlitz Cruise Guide) – the Hapag-Lloyd Cruises’ vessel is the equivalent of a floating Burj Al Arab.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the Europa 2 is functional chic - that's why it's a five star plus ship </td></tr>
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Every centimetre has been designed to be as chic and functional as possible, and the ship is full of original art – a Damien Hirst limited-edition butterfly print in your penthouse suite, anyone? The company has done away with the stuffy image of cruising to make it a stylish and modern way to travel the world.<br />
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Just two years old, the Europa 2 has more space on board than any other ship in the industry, so its 500 lucky guests can swing more than the proverbial moggie around the cabins. And if, like me, you stay in one of the 59 ocean suites, you get a sea view and veranda – unlike other ships, there are no inside suites, so everyone has a window and can see beautiful, ever-changing vistas.<br />
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From the moment I stepped on board, the wow factor was evident. There are chandeliers, 890 artworks, designer decor and boutique stores and just sheer opulence from the entrance all the way through to my suite on deck six. Forget everything you’ve ever thought about cruising – this bedroom is bigger than the average hotel one and comes with a double bed, living room, bathroom with a full-size tub, shower, designer products, as well as a walk-in wardrobe.<br />
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After hanging up the contents of my small suitcase – it took 10 minutes as this was just a four-day cruise from Dubai to Mina Salman port, Bahrain – I went to explore.<br />
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There was a lot to see. From the seven restaurants to the pool area with a retractable roof, culinary school, spa, gym, library and art gallery, this is a luxury resort at sea.<br />
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And by that I mean Hapag-Lloyd Cruises has literally thought of everything. There’s 100 per cent fresh air being pumped into our cabins, and the elite owner suites come complete with a jacuzzi, day bed and whirlpool on the veranda, a rain shower as well as a personal butler. There are a myriad exciting activities on offer and a packed itinerary of shore excursions for those who like to discover each city the ship stops at.<br />
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We only had an hour to freshen up before heading out to explore Dubai. It’s a novel idea to be given a guided tour of the city I’ve called home for the past four and a half years, but it was also an eye-opener. I got to see the emirate as a tourist.<br />
<br />
Lunch at At.mosphere on the 122nd floor of the Burj Khalifa was the first stop. Believe it or not, I’d never been here. I was always scared by the ascent – I hate heights – and after queuing up several times to go with my husband and children or visiting friends and family, I always bailed at the last minute.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOHAS4BE_VCDmzmdJcOknfFeVdbOqRCoeWkM_yUSamzRiFP7NtJUm7tA4uBWvqHcFR0itUCUt9utC69wxhPVHYPaRSjXaMhrrX4ugmEIMqv4Sc6Kv0874c2aU-Dge9lujm622_vFMxXn0A/s1600/4177094250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOHAS4BE_VCDmzmdJcOknfFeVdbOqRCoeWkM_yUSamzRiFP7NtJUm7tA4uBWvqHcFR0itUCUt9utC69wxhPVHYPaRSjXaMhrrX4ugmEIMqv4Sc6Kv0874c2aU-Dge9lujm622_vFMxXn0A/s400/4177094250.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big is beautiful - the Burj Khalifa in Dubai </td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
This time I couldn’t as I was with international journalists who literally pushed me into the lift. I balled my fists, taking in deep breaths and preparing for an eardrum-popping ride to the top. But three seconds later I opened my eyes to discover that I was there.<br />
<br />
Walking out of the lift, I stepped into the glamorous restaurant with jaw-dropping views. Dubai was way below me, a metropolis of buildings hugging the coastline that looked teeny from above, with Shaikh Zayed Road – the main artery – connecting everything. Beyond the city, the desert stretched as far as I could see.<br />
<br />
‘What would you like to drink?’ A waiter jolted me back from my thoughts on how Tom Cruise dangled from the side of this building and ran around its façade in the crazy scenes in Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol. It made my stomach lurch just to look down.<br />
<br />
But lunch was being served and I tucked into delicious ravioli, served with fresh green salad, and answered the other journalists’ questions on life in Dubai. They all wanted to know the same thing: what is it like waking up to sunshine every day, never paying taxes and what car I drove. ‘Jeep Cherokee,’ I said, adding ‘not everything here revolves around being the biggest or the fastest, you know.’ And as if to prove this point, we headed to the Creek for a sedate abra ride.<br />
<br />
It was a glimpse of Dubai I’d never seen before – boats ferrying tourists and residents, traders plying their wares, and the narrow streets of the spice and gold souqs. We stopped at the spice sellers, picking up packets of deep red saffron, the world’s most expensive spice, and walked down what was quickly named bling bling street by the others. This is the road leading into the gold souq – decked with twinkly fairy lights – where diamonds and other precious gems the size of fists were on show in the display windows of jewellery stores.<br />
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‘No wonder Dubai’s called the city of gold,’ a Belgian reporter said in awe, staring at shopfronts awash with everything you could imagine or ever want fashioned out of 22 carats. It was so bright, we left blinking, tiny stars still flashing before us as we climbed into our bus to head back to the ship.<br />
<br />
There was just time for a shower before slipping into a cocktail dress for dinner at Weltmeere restaurant – a fresh and delicious way to finish off our first day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjekZ3iIMHS5bHnSuAr2rdmo_Dr7wmyUcwAHoKS7UUvSwGqOVINRfoSvtiLpUPksspCi-AqLoBt9_-BSXDG8tbEJuISgtw3D5dECNRCnReQW8RuAsUNVIx3vXDMnUfggs7_2ta2IE-Z5pmD/s1600/3917192716.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjekZ3iIMHS5bHnSuAr2rdmo_Dr7wmyUcwAHoKS7UUvSwGqOVINRfoSvtiLpUPksspCi-AqLoBt9_-BSXDG8tbEJuISgtw3D5dECNRCnReQW8RuAsUNVIx3vXDMnUfggs7_2ta2IE-Z5pmD/s400/3917192716.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Weltmeere restaurant is a feast for the eyes </td></tr>
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<br />
Back in my suite, I was soon lulled to sleep as we set sail for the UAE’s capital, just down the coast. We’d already arrived as I joined the others for breakfast at the Yacht Club restaurant the next morning. I feasted on creamy scrambled eggs and toast before being whisked off for a day in Abu Dhabi.<br />
<br />
We started at the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque, one of the largest in the world, which cost Dh2 billion to build. It’s easy to see why. There are 82 domes, Swarovski chandeliers, rooms swathed in gold, marble and semi-precious stones, and the world’s largest carpet designed by Iranian artist Ali Khaliqi. The exquisite rug is 5,700 square metres in size, made of wool and some cotton by 1,200 carpet knotters, and covers the floor of the main prayer hall. The mosque can house 40,000 worshippers and is very much in use.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpPNd_shEsqqxfZWhzmtPl9UdLG8anloxe5yuZJsIe6387cEYBIM2TcW2fHwz7x6WiB_bpBEWT9cmgEbztWkDtS5hW0pL17MjQPWRsIv7A4e9ER52Qt16ti3w2irqJH3b57KgZOm0fn2Ni/s1600/1061252189.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpPNd_shEsqqxfZWhzmtPl9UdLG8anloxe5yuZJsIe6387cEYBIM2TcW2fHwz7x6WiB_bpBEWT9cmgEbztWkDtS5hW0pL17MjQPWRsIv7A4e9ER52Qt16ti3w2irqJH3b57KgZOm0fn2Ni/s400/1061252189.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sheih Zayed Grand Mosque is swathed in gold, marble and gems</td></tr>
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<br />
Overlooking it is the luxurious Ritz-Carlton Abu Dhabi, Grand Canal, where we were having lunch. Anywhere else it would be a small affair, but here, it was brunch. From breads to salads, soups, pasta, curries and Middle Eastern specialities, there was so much to try. The hummus was delicious, and the pasta pomodoro cooked fresh and al dente, just the way I like it. I finally sat back, full, hoping there would be a break so I could nap.<br />
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However, it was time for the speedboat tour of the coast, which left me pumped with adrenaline at the end. Shaking, but suprisingly dry, I clambered out when we arrived at our destination – Emirates Palace.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicClu5Wg02Kqso7nU3B_NoFxuFR_-NzHwkFd-aT9I0FPdKbGOazUH2q2O8cznXeJ8MK4lj2OB4F658c1CsoNIwwuLkOQ8xp6D08wKrYovIudYe5vTkXmcGV_mGJ5y0Dne8US70Fc5BC3uR/s1600/1695133386.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicClu5Wg02Kqso7nU3B_NoFxuFR_-NzHwkFd-aT9I0FPdKbGOazUH2q2O8cznXeJ8MK4lj2OB4F658c1CsoNIwwuLkOQ8xp6D08wKrYovIudYe5vTkXmcGV_mGJ5y0Dne8US70Fc5BC3uR/s400/1695133386.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emirates Palace was one of the locations for Furious 7 </td></tr>
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<br />
A haven of marble and soft furnishings, it stands by the water, in the shadow of Etihad Towers – the three glass buildings rising above the city where the highly successful Furious 7 was filmed. In the latest movie of the popular franchise, Vin Diesel and the late Paul Walker take part in a car chase, speeding out of one tower and crashing into the others. Standing by one of the pools, where the movie stars were spotted relaxing regularly during filming, I stared at the buildings, searching for any signs of holes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdJjPsPLcllVTuCGxAnO1gpodjpKSoCXp8yr9ecM_MIObZ41A8YjGZSdXgnPRgheoiGXCcrry7WFwQDi51lJxfBMpD61Lft3v28trZ1EP1L2JjPB1XPDP_DKCkh6u5hIudZt0tJ8Zhj7Ns/s1600/948930663.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdJjPsPLcllVTuCGxAnO1gpodjpKSoCXp8yr9ecM_MIObZ41A8YjGZSdXgnPRgheoiGXCcrry7WFwQDi51lJxfBMpD61Lft3v28trZ1EP1L2JjPB1XPDP_DKCkh6u5hIudZt0tJ8Zhj7Ns/s400/948930663.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Etihad Towers was not harmed during the filming of Furious 7 </td></tr>
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<br />
‘Special effects,’ our guide said, laughing. But I kept staring. After all, it had looked so real. Then, convinced that it was all just movie magic, I went inside for a luxurious afternoon tea. I couldn’t possibly eat anymore, but the dainty sandwiches, cakes and scones with clotted cream were too tempting to ignore.<br />
<br />
Finally, the fullest I’ve ever been, it was time to venture back to my home away from home, the Europa 2. ‘Meet you for dinner?’ one of the journalists asked and I groaned. Not more food.<br />
<br />
Instead I went to meet the captain, Christian van Zwamen for a tour of the bridge, and marvelled at the small wheel, which is now so tiny it looked like it should be in a sports car, not a ship.<br />
<br />
‘It’s the captain’s party later,’ he smiled. ‘Are you coming?’ Dancing until dawn on a 226-metre-long boat in the middle of the Arabian Gulf with 460 strangers? ‘You bet,’ I said. I mean how often do you get to sail away from the UAE’s capital in such style?<br />
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The ship was heading to Qatar and Bahrain next, but nothing could top the past 48 hours – it was an incredible seven-star staycation at sea. The Europa 2 made quite a splash.<br />
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<b>Travel facts</b><br />
I was lucky enough to experience the cruise on board the Europa 2 on a press trip - which was incredible. For more information, visit www.hl-cruises.com<br />
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About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-48924739213958957042016-10-01T05:48:00.001-07:002016-10-01T05:48:46.000-07:00Beauty Review: Baie Botanique Rose Renew Range<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_MxPE18oFhbJcHDAUHfoGbo0tqrupepzZxWujA2AbC6kKP87XKifdHccigN6PqHdiV61BzNlENmOGa-DJGOOsmWrm2m6UxKqQiDOrTvq5tTCiIDSCsrcfONlFAQjfpkOVO-0wPXtifkI9/s1600/Instagram+image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_MxPE18oFhbJcHDAUHfoGbo0tqrupepzZxWujA2AbC6kKP87XKifdHccigN6PqHdiV61BzNlENmOGa-DJGOOsmWrm2m6UxKqQiDOrTvq5tTCiIDSCsrcfONlFAQjfpkOVO-0wPXtifkI9/s400/Instagram+image.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Gone are the days when growing older meant having to face up to wrinkles. Our mothers only had nature and cold cream to help their skin look young. Now, thankfully, we have the choice of an arsenal of products and treatments to keep signs of ageing at bay.<br />
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But while I’m the first to admit I’m <i>obsessed </i>with looking at least a decade younger than my age, I haven’t resorted to fillers, botox or any surgery.<br />
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Yet check out my bathroom cabinet and you’ll see the shelves overflowing with serums, creams, moisturisers and gels from all over the world in my bid to keep my skin plump and free of lines.<br />
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But the best cost the most. Fact. So while I’d happily slather my face with Creme de la Mer and La Prairie every morning and evening, knowing my skin would thank me for it, I’m also equally sure that my bank balance wouldn’t.<br />
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So I’ve been searching for the perfect affordable range to work it’s anti-ageing magic for months and had almost given up - until now.<br />
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Step forward my new beauty bff, the Baie Botanique Rose Renew anti-ageing range. It boldly claims to use active botanicals to combat the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles while leaving skin brighter, softer and with a healthy glow. And guess what - it works!<br />
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Enriched with rose - the clue is in the name - the facewash, moisturiser and serum work together to help skins cell renew, which leaves it looking dewy, healthier and younger.<br />
<br />
Every morning and night I use the Regenerating Face Wash (£15 for 125ml) to cleanse my face and neck (always go down to your decolletage, which is one of the first places to show signs of ageing) which leaves my skin feeling soft and refreshed - but not tight.<br />
<br />
I’ve always believed in layering on products - you can never have too much moisturiser - and so next I apply the Regenerating Face Cream (£32 for 50ml) which uses a combination of rose water, rose absolute and rose hip seed oil to hydrate, plum and replenish skin. It smells faintly of rose, and drenches the skin leaving it feel smooth and radiant, but not greasy.<br />
<br />
It works by combating cellular ageing and stopping and deactivating the effects of damaging free radicals. All this is very good news for my skin, which looks and feels as if I’ve had (expensive) microdermabrasion - when a layer of dead, dull skin is sloughed off to make way for bright, younger cells.<br />
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Finally, I slather on the Rose Renew Regenerating Serum (£34 for 30ml) which is a concentrated mix pf active botanicals designed to tone, firm and restructure the skin, getting rid of the appearance of wrinkles and fine lines. It locks in moisture, improving the elasticity of the skin, while increasing collagen production to improve skin tone.<br />
<br />
After a month of using the range, I was asked if I was 15 - I repeat and will spell it out to, er, spell it out, <i>fifteen </i>- years younger than my age by a group of women I met last week so I know it's doing its job well. Not only do I look younger but my skin feels great too. It’s smoother, with less breakout as well as fewer lines. And as well as being natural and 70 per cent organic the range is made in Baie Botanique’s eco lab by an all-female team. How fab is that?<br />
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I've cleared a permanent spot on my shelves for this range. A girl can never have too many roses can she?<br />
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About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-43775422310154568052016-09-30T04:34:00.002-07:002016-09-30T04:35:23.517-07:00Friday Recipe: Fruity Creme Brûlée<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Nothing gets me as excited in the kitchen as a Creme Brûlée - simply because I can't wait to use the blowtorch to watch all that sugar caramelise on the top. Tapping into that topping and watching it crack is the highlight of the meal.<br />
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My celebrity chef <a href="http://www.alexiopasquali.com/" target="_blank">husband </a>puts a delicious spin on this family favourite by adding fruits and berries. Not only does it look amazing but it tastes great too - fresh and tangy. It's an easy way to get some of your five a day. Enjoy!<br />
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<br />
<b>Prep time </b>25 mins<br />
<b>Cooking time</b> 45 mins, plus cooling time<br />
<b>Serves </b>6<br />
<br />
<b>Ingredients</b><br />
500ml double cream<br />
1 vanilla pod, split lengthways, seeds extracted and pod chopped<br />
6 egg yolks<br />
100g caster sugar, plus extra for topping<br />
Chopped fruit or berries, to garnish<br />
<br />
Preheat the oven to 150°C.<br />
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Pour the cream into a pan with the vanilla pod and seeds. Bring to the boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile beat the yolks and sugar together in a heatproof bowl until pale and thick.<br />
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Bring the cream back to the boil and pour it into the egg mixture in a thin stream, whisking continuously until it has a custard-like consistency.<br />
<br />
Strain into a jug using a fine sieve then pour into six ramekins until they are 2/3 full.<br />
<br />
Prepare a bain marie by filling a large roasting tin halfway with hot water. Put the ramekins into the tin and carefully place in the centre of the oven to bake for 40 to 45 minutes, or until just set.<br />
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Allow to cool to room temperature then refrigerate.<br />
<br />
Just before serving, sprinkle caster sugar on the top of each ramekin and caramelise it with a chef’s blowtorch or place under a hot grill for a couple of minutes until a golden topping has formed. Garnish with berries.</div>
About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-7862616991756721372016-09-27T02:25:00.003-07:002016-09-27T02:25:26.829-07:00Memoirs of meeting a Geisha in Kyoto <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
Move over Tokyo – the cultural capital of Japan boasts geisha, samurai and karaoke<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tomi-Tae the Justin Bieber loving maiko</td></tr>
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She looked like she’d stepped straight out of the pages of Arthur Golden’s award-winning novel. With her white face, crimson lips, Nihongami bun, and violet antique kimono, Tomi-Tae was the double of Chiyo Sakamoto, the heroine of the historical best-seller, Memoirs of a Geisha.<br />
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But while Golden’s geisha was a work of fiction, this exotic apprentice was standing in front of me, waiting to perform in a traditional okiya house in Gion, the geisha district of the former imperial capital of Japan, Kyoto.<br />
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The maiko – a geisha in training, literally translated as ‘dance child’ – bowed so low that the flowers pinned into her hair fluttered, trying to escape her elaborate hairstyle. Then she knelt down, careful not to sit on her obi (sash), which was tied around her kimono and hung down to her ankles, and began to play a koto – a traditional string instrument.<br />
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Sad, lilting notes filled the small room, conjuring up images of the water of the Kamo River rushing through the city, and Tomi-Tae and her friends hurrying along the narrow streets of Gion on their high-heeled okobo.<br />
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The song ended, and the mood changed as the maiko performed a mesmerising dance – her hands creating stories of their own, while her body swayed gently, like one of the fragrant cherry blossom trees outside swaying in the wind.<br />
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As she twisted, I caught a glimpse of her bare neck. Maikos don the same white make-up on the nape, which is considered sensual, leaving just a tiny patch of skin exposed. It’s part of the rich history of the geisha and their coveted role in Japanese culture.<br />
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The role of geisha can be traced as far back as 794 when the Imperial Court moved to Kyoto and the Japanese became obsessed with beauty. Geishas were considered the epitome of Japanese femininity, and entertained the elite.<br />
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Now they play a pivotal part in tourism as well as entertaining rich businessmen with their musical and dancing skills. Tourists flock to Gion to see the geisha of Golden’s novel and subsequent Academy Award-winning film, starring Suzuka Ohgo.<br />
<br />
But it’s rare to get a private audience with a maiko like this. And so after showing us how to play a parlour game that involves clapping, singing and trying to outwit your partner – she won every time, which saw her giggle in delight – the 18-year-old sits down to talk.<br />
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'I wanted to be a geisha since I was a little girl,' she explained through her translator. 'My parents weren’t very happy at first as they knew I would have to leave home, but they supported me when they realised how serious I was. I came to Kyoto aged 15. I now study very hard, especially at music and calligraphy.'<br />
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She explained how she works for Okaa-san, the mother of the house, who chose to train her because she was a gifted musician, and because she is so pretty.<br />
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'I love to wear make-up and dress up,' Tomi-Tae said. 'But I have to be careful about my hair and sleep on a special pillow so I don’t mess it up.'<br />
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As she spoke the maiko looked much younger, her hands flying in front of her mouth when she laughed, or tried to find the right word to explain her life: how she gets to see her family only twice a year, and how she likes going to the cinema with friends and has seen Memoirs of a Geisha on YouTube.<br />
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Everything took a while as my questions were translated into Japanese, and her replies explained to us in English. 'Have you heard of Justin Bieber?' I asked the teenager, and suddenly she didn’t need the translator. 'I love him,' she replied in perfect English. 'I’m a big fan. My favourite song is Baby. I would like to meet him one day.'<br />
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It was strange to think of this maiko relaxing in jeans and a T-shirt on a rare day off, devoid of make-up, listening to the biggest pop star on the planet in her bedroom, just like other teenagers.<br />
But now it was time to leave, and she escorted me outside, where we posed together for pictures while curious tourists and Japanese stared.<br />
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Before she could take her leave, she bowed not just once, but twice, then again, and I found myself caught in the complicated social and cultural code that I simply did not as a Westerner understand.<br />
So I bowed every time she did, and finally, after about 10 minutes of this, the mother rescued Tomi-Tae and ushered her back inside the okiya.<br />
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Walking away – head and shoulders above the local residents – it was the first of many pinch-me moments in a country that is abundantly rich in heritage, history and culture.<br />
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Next stop Tawaraya Yoshitomi for a Japanese sweet tea ceremony, an elaborate ritual where a female tea master made a bowl of green tea – a task so ritualistic it took around an hour.<br />
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It takes 10 to 15 years to become a certified tea master, and I can see why, as every part of the ceremony involves complex and complicated movements, almost like a dance.<br />
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The green tea has to be brewed and filtered, but simply touching the crockery involves a series of movements, and when the tea is finally ready, it looks like a frothy green soup and cannot be consumed until the tea bowl has been rotated halfway round.<br />
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After I finisheded my tea, which was strong and didn’t taste at all like tea in the West, I was reminded to spin it back round to its original position so as not to cause offence.<br />
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Sweets are offered with the tea, and we were invited into a confectionary room to make some. It sounded like fun, and I thought it was going to be easy as I followed the chef, but it was much harder than it looked.<br />
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At first I thought we were creating flowers and pretty shapes out of marzipan, like petite fours, but in fact we were using dough made out of beans and vegetables.<br />
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My sweets looked ugly and misshapen and tasted unlike anything I’d ever had before – it was like eating a very doughy and chewy semi-sweet jelly – and I could only manage one.<br />
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Besides, I was too busy watching the delicate movements of the tea master, who was every bit as graceful as the geisha, with her intricate ritual involving myriad bowls and a whisk.<br />
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I was fast learning that everything in Japan has some deeper meaning. The entire culinary world, and tea, is not simply about satisfying one’s thirst or hunger – the experience is a cultural one.<br />
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Kyoto reigned as the capital of Japan for more than 1,000 years after Emperor Kammu made the city the centre of his Imperial Court and Japan’s political world.<br />
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Having escaped most of the destruction of the Second World War, it now has more than 2,000 shrines and temples, and 17 Unesco World Heritage sites.<br />
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Kyoto residents are proud of their noble heritage and traditions, which include kaiseki ryori – food beautiful enough to be called art.<br />
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Four styles of cooking relating to the imperial court, the Buddhist temples, tea ceremonies and formalised samurai events developed Kyoto’s most sophisticated culinary culture, Kyo-ryori.<br />
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So it was no wonder that I spent as much time taking photos of meals during my stay in Japan as I did consuming them.<br />
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I fell in love with tofu, which is served in different ways, and which I discover is part of the authentic Buddhist vegetarian cuisine, Shojin-ryori, which came to Japan from China with Zen Buddhism in the Kamakura period from 1192 to 1333. But the stand-out meal, apart from the must-try bento boxes, is lunch at Misoguigawa, a fusion of French and Kaiseki-style food.<br />
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It comes in delicate bowls with dishes so beautifully presented that I hardly dared touch them, and instead stared at them as if they were paintings before finally tasting them.<br />
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An explosion of flavours danced in my mouth, a sumptuous blend of French and Japanese coming together in harmony.<br />
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The chef Teruo Inoue looked like he’d stepped off a runway with the smartest chef’s whites I’d ever seen and a tie so impeccably knotted that it’s no wonder his dishes are as visually appealing as they are delicious. All the dishes were served by a waitress who looked more like a Japanese supermodel, and so I just had to take pictures of her as well as the food.<br />
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Later, I collapsed on the bed back in my room at Hotel Granvia, a modernist homage to glass and steel, directly in front of Kyoto Central Station, where bullet trains speed past en route to Tokyo.<br />
The ultimate in modern Japanese chic, the hotel is part of the JR Kyoto Station building, and houses a theatre, underground shopping mall, museum and department store.<br />
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The rooms are small by Western standards, but big for Japan, and have all the mod cons and then some – I had to call downstairs to the concierge to ask how to work the shower, which comes with a bucket.<br />
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The patient concierge explained that it’s normal in Japan to wash using the bucket and soap before you go into the shower. It doesn’t make any sense to me, but neither does the heated toilet complete with musical options. They’re de rigeur in Japan, and have so many buttons on them that I’m sure I’m going to be launched out of the cubicle into space if I press too many.<br />
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So I indulged my passion for music over the road in a karaoke bar, which has private booths for parties of friends and colleagues, who dine, drink and sing their favourite songs.<br />
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Our guide, Ted, along with the management of Hotel Granvia Kyoto, took us along for another pinch-me moment when I found myself hogging the microphone wailing along to Jon Bon Jovi’s Living on a Prayer and Madonna’s Material Girl.<br />
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'You’re a really good singer,' Ted told me, and I wondered if he was being sarcastic or if it’s part of that bewildering Japanese social code again. Either way, I bowed, and watched as he belted out Elvis’ Suspicious Minds pitch perfect and complete with jiggling hips and a Presley-style pout.<br />
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Then it was off to bed, because we were up early the next day to visit Kiyomizu-dera temple, in the east of the city, where a resident Buddhist monk greeted us for a guided tour.<br />
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Swathed in black silk robes and a golden sash, he was totally unlike any monk I’ve ever met. Well-travelled, fluent in English and married (as all Buddhist monks are allowed to be here), he had an aura of sophistication as well as tranquillity.<br />
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He guided us round the beautiful temple, which was built in the early 17th Century without using a single nail. The temple is named after the waterfall, which runs down into the complex from the nearby hills as Kiyomizu means clear or pure water.<br />
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I marveled at the bright orange of the temple, the intricate work inside and out, but refused to go down into a special, pitch-black corridor, which is said to leave people who enter it reborn when they come out the other side.<br />
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Instead I smiled at the Japanese visitors in their kimonos, and headed outside to the stalls and shops to stock up on Hello Kitty merchandise for my little girl and a gold and black Bieber-style baseball cap, complete with an ornate embroidered dragon, for my son.<br />
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Fashion is big business in Japan, and we ventured across the city to Hosoo, a traditional weaving studio that produced silks and fabrics for Dior and other top designers.<br />
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It was fascinating to see the gorgeous designs being created and then programmed into a computer, which works the weave. It takes ages to make – I was there for a couple of hours and only a few centimetres are made in that time – so of course the workmanship doesn’t come cheap. But the quality is incredible, and I drifted back to the hotel wishing I had a Hosoo keepsake to take home.<br />
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I consoled myself with the thought of the next day’s activity – a visit to the Toei Kyoto Studio Park – a theme park that also houses a real-life film studio. More than 200 Jidaigeki movies are made here every year, and walking down one of the streets, set in the Edo period, we came face to face with samurai performing chambara – a sword-fighting play – watched ninjas in the theatre, and smiled at the couples dressing up as a samurai, or geisha for a date with a difference.<br />
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As we were about to leave, a bunch of teenage school girls rushed up to me and thrust a letter in my hands. In perfect English, 13-year-old Nagisa introduced herself, saying she came from Innoshima, an island, and would like to have a pen pal.<br />
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She was so shy and sweet, giggling behind her hand, as I read her beautifully scripted note and agreed to write to her when I got back to Dubai. And then I was off to my final stop in Japan – a traditional inn or ryokan. These are the places we see on TV or in films, with rush mats and sliding paper walls – and great omotenashi, or traditional Japanese hospitality.<br />
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Our inn, Yoshida Sanso, was incredible – an authentic ryokan built on the hillside of Mount Yoshida in 1932 and the former villa of Highashi Fushiminomiya, who is the uncle of the current Emperor Akihito.<br />
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Designed in part by Tsunekazu Nishioka, who also restored Japanese national treasures including Yakushi-ji temple and Horyu-ji temple in Nara, the villa is made from Hinoki cypress with views over beautiful gardens, Mount Daimonji and the range of Kyoto’s eastern mountains.<br />
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Our hostess, Tomoko Nakamura, whose family owns the villa, let us decide between ourselves which rooms we wanted. I chose one with a balcony overlooking the gardens, complete with futon, which is a mattress on the floor. I was sure that meant an uncomfortable night ahead, but after feasting on kaiseki and being given a scroll with a waka poem written out with a brush to keep forever, I fell into a deep sleep.<br />
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I awoke in the morning feeling refreshed and ready for breakfast while watching the sun rise over the gardens. Sadly it was time to head to Kansai airport in Osaka, but I wouldn’t forget Kyoto in a hurry.<br />
Luckily I already own a copy of Golden’s book, which I vowed to re-read as soon as I arrived home. It will be fascinating to revisit now that I’ve walked through Gion, met a maiko – and I now have memoirs of my own. Ones to treasure.<br />
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Inside info<br />
I was lucky enough to be on a press trip which was probably the best I've ever been on. For latest prices for Hotel Granvia visit www.granviakyoto.com<br />
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For more info on Yoshida-Sanso visit www.yoshidasanso.com.<br />
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About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-29763445824761865022016-09-23T01:49:00.001-07:002016-09-23T01:49:22.987-07:00Friday Recipe: Truffle Risotto in a Parmesan Basket<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Truffle Risotto in a parmesan basket: It looks as good as it tastes </td></tr>
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In my house there are three things that are important: food, football and food. I don't agree with the football bit but food is worth double the effort because it's not just to eat. It's a celebration of family life.<br />
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We eat Italian style. There's no surprises there - after all my husband is an Italian celebrity <a href="http://www.alexiopasquali.com/" target="_blank">chef</a>, but we don't just eat and run. We eat like we're in a restaurant - savouring every bite while talking about our and the children's days. Sometimes we're there for a couple of hours, long after every morsel has been devoured. It's our special time.<br />
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And so we make sure the food looks as good as it tastes. This risotto is given superstar status thanks to the Parmesan Basket. But it's easy to do - believe me if I can do it, anyone can. So follow this simple recipe - one of my husband's best I think - and impress your loved ones too. Buon Appetito!<br />
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<b>Prep time </b>10 mins<br />
<b>Cooking time</b> 30 mins<br />
<b>Serves</b> 4<br />
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<b>Ingredients</b><br />
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200g grated Parmesan, plus extra for garnish<br />
Olive oil, a drizzle<br />
400g carnaroli rice<br />
1 litre, hot vegetable stock<br />
Slices of truffle or truffle oil<br />
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To make the Parmesan baskets, place 4 small bowls upside down on a tray. Warm a small non-stick frying pan over low heat. Sprinkle a quarter of the Parmesan in a thin layer over the pan and melt, 3-4 minutes.<br />
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As the cheese begins to melt and stick together to form a sheet, gently lift it off the pan using tongs and place it over an upturned bowl, allowing it to cool and take the shape of the bowl. Repeat process to make the remaining cheese baskets. Refrigerate the baskets for at least 10 minutes to set.<br />
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Heat oil in a pan over high heat, add the rice and toast for 2-3 minutes. Gradually add a ladleful of hot stock and stir continuously until the rice absorbs all the liquid. Repeat process until you’ve used up all the stock and the rice is cooked al dente, around 18 minutes.<br />
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To serve, remove the Parmesan baskets from the fridge. Spoon in a portion of the risotto and garnish with grated Parmesan and a drizzle of truffle oil or slices of fresh truffle.</div>
About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-49444083653623752992016-09-20T03:54:00.001-07:002016-09-20T03:55:09.410-07:00Indian Summer - Exploring the Splendour of the Taj Mahal and Golden Triangle <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Staying in real palaces, meeting a maharaja and marvelling at the Taj Mahal, I explore the luxurious side of the Golden Triangle<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Testament to Love: the Taj Mahal </td></tr>
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Stepping off the aeroplane in Jodhpur, northern India, I'd been warned to expect a warm welcome. A namaste, of course, along with garlands of jasmine and marigolds; perhaps even a bindi. But no one had mentioned a vintage convertible Buick, a four-horse cavalcade or royal escort.<br />
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I shouldn't really have been surprised - I was, after all, going to stay in a real-life palace, home of the Maharaja of Jodhpur. So I sat back, the red leather interior of the 1947 car - one of the Maharaja's private collection - cool against the Rajasthani sun, and enjoyed the short ride up to Taj Umaid Bhawan Palace.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Travelling in style in a vintage Buick Pic: Rosemary Behan </td></tr>
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Children, women, men on motorbikes and extended families in rickshaws all stopped to wave and admire the car, the tails of the chauffeur's tie-dyed turban billowing in the breeze as we swept out of the city up to the golden palace.<br />
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Made out of desert sandstone, the royal residence sits majestically on top of the hill opposite the city's15th-century Mehrangarh Fort. As I stepped out of the Buick onto a real red carpet, I was showered with rose petals and whisked inside one of the world's largest private homes.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taj Umaid Bhawan Palace - a hotel fit for a queen</td></tr>
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Designed by Edwardian British architect Henry Lanchester, the Palace is a tribute to opulence, traditional rajputana influences and art deco. It was commissioned by the present maharaja's grandfather, Umaid Singh, in 1923 as a testament to the new Jodhpur and to provide work to people of Marwar during the period's famines and droughts. It was finally finished in 1943, and handed down to the Maharaja Hanwant Singh, who died in an air crash in January 1952, aged 28.<br />
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The present owner, Maharaja Gaj Singh, was crowned at the tender age of four and still lives with his family in one wing of the 347-roomed palace, which is now part of Taj Hotels, Resorts and Palaces.<br />
Set in 26 acres, the totally restored palace comes complete with peacocks, bougainvillea, 64-available rooms and suites, a roof-top restaurant, royal butlers and, quite frankly, whatever your heart desires (and budget can stretch to).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maharaja Gaj Singh still owns the palace which is now part of Taj Hotels</td></tr>
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The actress Liz Hurley married Arun Nayar here, with Elton John among the guests. The ceremony was described as ‘Indian splendour' by People magazine. 'There were dancing white horses, walkways lined with millions of red chilli peppers and a week of endless parties for 200 or so revellers who danced and ate and one night slept outside under the stars,' said the report.<br />
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So it shouldn't have come as a shock that on my very first night 200 tea lights lit a red carpet across the Kenyan-imported lawn leading to my private al fresco feast. The entertainment was provided by a family band who now sing their heartfelt laments at the palace after getting into the final of India's Got Talent, followed by dancers who twinkled and twirled under the black velvet sky.<br />
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Five courses and an amazing firework display later, and I was ready to hit the four-poster bed in my palatial suite. The room ‘fairies' had been in before me though and had run a rose petal bath in the art deco bathroom, so, as I savoured the chocolates they'd left for me, I sank into the fragrant water, wondering how I could top such a magnificent start to my trip.<br />
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An Indian safari<br />
After a sumptuous à la carte breakfast on the terrace overlooking the beautiful gardens, it was time to head out. The Buick had been replaced with a 4X4 for a ‘village safari'.<br />
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Leaving the luxury of the palace behind, we bounced along dirt tracks to meet the Bishnois - the pure vegetarians who have lived on the land in the arid desert since the15th century, making floors out of cow dung, and surviving off their love of nature.<br />
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More recently tourists have no doubt played a big part too, as an elderly father and his middle-aged daughter happily opened their sparse home for me to explore, and to marvel at how they cope with little more than the bare essentials.<br />
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Driving past women working outdoors, their bright magenta, saffron and cyan saris so colourful against the Rajasthan desert, we reached our next stop. Roopraj Prajapati was already busy on his loom.<br />
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Carpet-maker to the stars, Roopraj is friends with Richard Gere, Prince Charles and Camilla and former South African president FW de Klerk, who was instrumental in ending apartheid rule. They've all passed through his tiny home to watch him, and his wife Nainu, make beautiful carpets out of cotton, using traditional methods. His creations grace the floor of the Palace too. 'The Maharaja helps us a lot,' Roopraj said, smiling, and pulling out his scrapbook of photos with celebrities and cuts from Vogue and other international magazines.<br />
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Roopraj is so popular, despite living in the desert, that he now has thousands of facebook fans, and a thriving business selling his carpets from 2,500 to 11,000 rupees. The carpets are gorgeous, but I wasn't inclined to ship one home. Roopraj didn't seem to mind, and offered me tea and stories of meeting VIPs ('Mr Gere drops by whenever he's in India, he likes my tea') before I set off again.<br />
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Caught up in a wedding<br />
Just up the road and I became one of the main attractions in a wedding procession. The local villagers all get married on one of the ‘wedding days' of the year to share costs. Three grooms on horseback passed by, surrounded by dozens of friends and family, but as they spotted me - an obvious tourist - the children, procession and even the grooms surrounded the 4X4, shouting: 'Hello'.<br />
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They were friendly, curious and made me laugh with their demands to see if my blonde locks are real. After the children had blown lots of kisses, we carried on, this time to meet a potter who tried to teach me how to ‘throw' a vase. Sadly, I took him literally and clay ended up flying everywhere as my lack of artistic talent made for a very dirty ending to a one-on-one tutorial.<br />
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Next it was time to head back to the palace. First up was a ‘warrior' massage in the luxurious Jiva Grande Spa, where, after a consultation with an ayurvedic resident doctor, a Tibetan therapist soothed my aching muscles and shoulders with the most vigorous - and best - massage ever.<br />
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Dinner in Mehrangarh Fort followed. Founded by Rao Jodha in 1459, the fort crowns the cliff opposite Umaid Bhawan, and only a winding, exhilarating ride leads up to it. Camels, a torch procession, dancers and my very own Rajasthan turban awaited, before a guided tour of the fort, and a three-course dinner in the courtyard, served by my royal butler.<br />
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'How could anything ever top this?' I wondered, but I hadn't figured for canapes the next night with the maharaja himself. Intelligent, charismatic and business-savvy, he was a great pre-dinner companion, who explained why he was happy to share his home with paying guests to preserve the beauty of the palace.<br />
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In love with the Taj Mahal<br />
The next day, I was reluctant to leave, worried that I had been too spoiled after spending time in such luxury. Fortunately, I was whisked to Agra to see the only other place in India resplendent enough to take my mind off the palace - The Taj Mahal.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In love with the Taj Mahal </td></tr>
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Built from white marble in the 17th century as a testament to the love Mughal emperor Shah Jahan had for his wife, Mumtaz Mahal, the monument became even more famous when the late Princess Diana graced the world's front pages photographed alone in front of it.<br />
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As I queued at 6am for the gates to be opened, I couldn't wait to catch a glimpse of the mausoleum rising from the morning mist. It was so much more beautiful than I had imagined that it made me gasp. As I stood, in awe, I realised dozens of other tourists were racing to be photographed sitting in front of it on the Diana Bench, their smiles and body language mirroring hers.<br />
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I spent two hours looking at this architectural masterpiece, before going to watch the Mohabbat The Taj show nearby. It tells the story of the emperor and his wife, who died giving birth to her 14th child. He mourned her death, and oversaw every aspect of the building of the Taj, which took 21 years.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Taj Mahal sits majestically on the banks of the river in Agra </td></tr>
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During that time, he decided to build a black version of the monument on the opposite side of the river in Agra, but his son, furious at what he believed to be an extravagant waste of public funds, killed him before his own mausoleum could be started. The Emperor is now at rest in the Taj, next to his wife, which ruins the otherwise perfect symmetry of the monument, but makes the love story even more poignant.<br />
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At the end of the show, it was time to head back to my new ‘home', the Oberoi Amarvilas where I really did have a room with a view - the Taj Mahal can apparently be seen from every window, and took centre-stage in mine. All pristine marble, and indulgent pampering, it felt like I was living in a Merchant Ivory film, with the Taj as the main star.<br />
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She was hard to upstage, and the next day it was with muted attention that I slunk around Agra fort, listening to the guide's passionate speech about how the widowed queens and women-folk were happy to throw themselves into the flames rather than be captured (he showed us their handprints emblazoned on the walls as they leapt into the fire as proof) and Indiana Jones-style defence strategies.<br />
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Our guide's eyes blazed as he described giant stone balls rolling down the hill to crush invaders, followed by hot oil ‘showers'. But I couldn't concentrate, I was too enthralled by the tragic love story of the Taj. So, after one more night at the Oberoi, I was relieved to be moving on to somewhere completely new.<br />
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Land of contrasts<br />
Our next stop was New Delhi and The Oberoi Gurgaon. All shiny mirrors and high-tech sophistication, the hotel could equally be at home in London or New York as India's capital, but the little touches made it a definite jewel in the crown.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shiny and new, the Oberoi Gurgaon is perfect to explore New Delhi </td></tr>
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From the ultra relaxing ‘soothing' facial I had in the 24/7 spa, through to the clap-and-they-open-and-close blinds in the five-star, international-style rooms, the hotel had thought of everything. Based around business traveller's needs and desires, The Oberoi Gurgaon is the perfect base from which to explore New Delhi.<br />
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I headed out on a sight-seeing tour of the city, and found myself bewitched by the sight of monkeys, street children and cows on every corner. A little bit frightened by the animals - I've only ever seen monkeys in the zoo, and cows on a farm - I wanted to take the Bambi-eyed youngsters home. Living under the stars with their parents, they took begging at traffic lights in their stride, but watching the Slumdog-style children was heart-breaking. As a tourist and guest in India I had everything, while they had nothing.<br />
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It was hard to accept and, saddened, I decided to explore the city by rickshaw. It wasn't a mistake, as I was soon being whisked through the tiny streets, past the dazzling swatches of material that would eventually become a bride's wedding dress, the glittering bangles waiting to adorn a child's wrist and the perfectly constructed towers of brightly coloured fruits.<br />
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Giggling, I gasped as my ‘driver' squeezed through impossibly tiny gaps and kept showing me his muscles under his shirt to prove his strength. At the end of the exhilarating 30-minute ride, I was grateful for his street knowledge and bravado. At times, I'd grimaced, convinced we'd never make it through the throngs, but my driver had always found a way.<br />
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A quick change of hotel - to the Leela Palace with its tasteful, yet opulent decor (it reminded me of The Dorchester in London, so it was easy to see why it's been touted as the most expensively built hotel in India) and I headed to the city's Kingdom of Dreams for a taste of Bollywood in the shape of Zangoora, the gypsy king musical.<br />
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Starring popular TV star Hussain Kuwajerwala and beautiful co-star, former model Gauhar Khan, it was gripping from curtain up. With my English translation headphones on, I followed every dramatic moment - on stage just inches away from me, up in the air as the stars ‘flew' across the auditorium, and didn't want the show to end.<br />
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But as the dancers moved into the audience for the final number, I reluctantly agreed to dance along to Jai Ho after being plucked from the audience. It was a fitting encore - the victory dance summed up my amazing passage to India: glamorous, inspiring and over all too soon. I'm already planning my next trip back.</div>
About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-87057751964153230522016-09-16T04:21:00.000-07:002016-09-16T04:21:03.166-07:00Friday Recipe: Ricotta Pancakes <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Melt-in-your mouth pancakes that are flipping' gorgeous </td></tr>
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Pancakes are a firm family favourite in our house. For breakfast with maple syrup, for dessert with lemon and sugar or for a special treat with ricotta and fresh fruits. My celebrity chef husband <a href="http://alexiopasquali.com/" target="_blank">Alexio </a>has taught us how to make these and the children both love taking turns to flip them. They're quick, easy and oh-so-delicious.<br />
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<b>Serves: </b>4 <b>Prep time:</b> 15 mins<br />
<b>Cooking time:</b> 15 mins<br />
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Ingredients<br />
95g plain flour<br />
1/2 tsp baking powder<br />
1 tbsp sugar<br />
700g ricotta cheese, drained<br />
1 1/2 tbsp milk<br />
3 eggs, separated<br />
Butter, as required<br />
Whipped double cream, fresh fruit and berries of your choice, to serve<br />
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In a bowl, mix together the flour, baking powder and sugar.<br />
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In another bowl, combine the ricotta, milk and egg yolks. Beat the egg whites in an electric mixer until stiff.<br />
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Add the flour mixture to the ricotta mixture, stirring gently until just combined. Whisk in a small amount of the egg whites to lighten the batter, then fold in the remaining whites.<br />
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Heat a non-stick pan over mediumhigh heat, and brush the surface with butter. Pour in a ladleful of batter and swirl the pan to coat it evenly.<br />
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Cook pancakes for 3-4 minutes, then flip, cooking until both sides are golden.<br />
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Serve with whipped double cream, fresh fruit and berries.<br />
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About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-84538540020555419772016-09-13T04:01:00.000-07:002016-09-13T04:01:28.254-07:00Five-star Luxury in Sensational Seychelles<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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With one of the world’s best beaches on my doorstep, a luxury villa in an award-winning resort to call home for a few days and an ox and cart in which to see the sights, I get back to nature in the Seychelles<br />
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The instructions were simple: pull the left rope to turn left, and the right to go in the opposite direction; press down hard on the accelerator to go faster, and lift the tail to change gear.<br />
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What did I expect? On an island without cars, there was a stark choice for transportation – hire a bicycle, take shank’s pony or, gulp, end up in the situation I found myself in now, about to take control of an ox and cart – though the use of the word control was a bit of an exaggeration.<br />
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‘This one is a nightmare,’ our guide Clifford smiled. ‘He does what he wants. My boss told me I had to strike him to train him better but I look into his big, brown eyes and I just can’t.’<br />
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Clifford, 18, is a bit of a softy. He doesn’t eat beef because it reminds him of work and he prefers to teach his bovine companion where to go by blowing it kisses.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuG0W6BzdrInqMEUs2rEdhwFuw8zMkND0498kldqsMFsLVaCYlvJ5-_loRFWXbnkFAifclQZIkY9NmBzK5WAvT7u3-AfeepPnpio8EhwOo4xMjFpY3bAUK4uMKImt4HwH2NrJfPKw_0gs6/s1600/148486_304417419667827_1683458611_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuG0W6BzdrInqMEUs2rEdhwFuw8zMkND0498kldqsMFsLVaCYlvJ5-_loRFWXbnkFAifclQZIkY9NmBzK5WAvT7u3-AfeepPnpio8EhwOo4xMjFpY3bAUK4uMKImt4HwH2NrJfPKw_0gs6/s400/148486_304417419667827_1683458611_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clifford the Ox Commander</td></tr>
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That might explain why he has passed the tests necessary to ‘command’ ox and carts on the tiny island of La Digue, in the Seychelles, but still doesn’t have a driving licence for when he ventures wider afield.<br />
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Luckily, I had my UK and International licences tucked in my purse, and so smacking my lips together and gingerly lifting the ox’s tail, we set off along the pothole-riddled road towards the beach.<br />
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It was a bumpy ride, to say the least, but we were obviously an entertaining site, being overtaken by families with toddlers on bikes and grannies shuffling along with their shopping. A man balancing what looked like the whole of a Danube store on his head, guffawed so loudly as he cycled past that his bundle of wooden flooring nearly toppled to the ground. But still, I persevered.<br />
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Driving an ox and cart is not as easy as it looks. I yelled at the ox. It ignored me. I pulled on the ropes and it veered off in whatever direction the grass looked greener. The cart careered through so many holes my head kept hitting the roof, making me yelp.<br />
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But it was all worth it as 40 minutes later we rounded a corner and a white beach, lapped by azure waters, greeted us. It’s picture-postcard perfect, but then so is every beach on the 115 islands in the Indian Ocean archipelago.<br />
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No wonder the Seychelles is one of the most popular destinations for weddings and honeymooners – Prince William and Kate, came here as newlyweds. It’s romantic with a capital R, has stunning pristine sand that is so super-fine it’s like walking in flour, coral reefs and is easy bureaucracy-wise. All you need is your birth certificate and passport, and you can be taking your vows, sand between your toes, just 48 hours after touching down on the reclaimed runway at Mahe, the main island.<br />
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Jumping off the ox and cart now, I watched as a German bride and groom, photographer and videographer in tow, took their vows on the sand before riding off into the sunset in their very own chariot of love. Yes, it was Clifford’s other bovine friend pulling a very pretty flower-decorated cart. ‘That one is perfect,’ he sighed, taking over the reins. ‘He was trained before I started here.’<br />
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I wanted to linger and watch the newlyweds, but there was no time. Our La Digue day-trip was drawing to a close and we were on a tight schedule to catch the last boat back to Praslin, the second-biggest island in the Seychelles and my home for the next five days.<br />
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The boat leaves at 5pm every day because it’s dark by 6pm and there are no night lights on La Digue, which has just 3,000 inhabitants – the second highest population in the Seychelles. So there was only time to stop for a couple of minutes to gaze at the giant tortoises that live here before jumping back on the bone-rattling cart.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feeding the giant tortoises on La Digue Island was fun </td></tr>
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As the sun began to slide behind the horizon, I started to panic. The harbour was in sight, but the pace of the ox matched the life here – slow. I didn’t want to miss that boat and be stuck here in darkness, especially as I was staying at the most amazing resort – Raffles Praslin. So I was glad to swap my traditional transport for a much faster boat to make the five-mile dash to my new ‘home’.<br />
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The day before I’d flown in to the granite island from Mahe in a tiny Air Seychelles plane decorated with flowers. It was a thrilling ten-minute ride, which culminated in us swooping in over rainforest and landing next to what looked like someone’s garden.<br />
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So now I smiled as I dashed up the jetty to leave La Digue – where blockbuster Castaway was filmed – behind me. It was beautiful but no match for Praslin, with its colonial buildings, and prehistoric rainforest.<br />
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Ten minutes later I stepped off the ferry and headed for Raffles. Newly built into the hillside overlooking Takamaka Bay, in the northeast corner of the island, Raffles has already won a clutch of awards. It was named as the Seychelles’ Leading Hotel at the prestigious travel ‘Oscars’, the World Travel Awards, this year and is already in Forbes’ top ten.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiav0Ua6MnabJwfl808J-X4FeVE_BNE1gpiZ0TJFd4m9QCWObDLcpiaVw417lYDQtyQeVOG8GmUVO8qyqg4K28-hJLfJrGGs7rtLu1pIMWweceXTtV31bB5hyphenhyphen7kmCw2pDwgYhLTWyHuiYXl/s1600/praslin+resort.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiav0Ua6MnabJwfl808J-X4FeVE_BNE1gpiZ0TJFd4m9QCWObDLcpiaVw417lYDQtyQeVOG8GmUVO8qyqg4K28-hJLfJrGGs7rtLu1pIMWweceXTtV31bB5hyphenhyphen7kmCw2pDwgYhLTWyHuiYXl/s400/praslin+resort.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Praslin Seychelles - a slice of paradise </td></tr>
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I’d only been staying there 24 hours but already I was impressed. Firstly, the entire resort, which boasts 86 villas, five restaurants and an award-winning spa, overlooks clear, turquoise waters and beaches to rival the Maldives.<br />
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Next, my two-bedroom villa was huge. We’re talking football-pitch size here, with an infinity plunge pool, sun deck, a summer house, landscaped gardens and its own private path down to the secluded beach.<br />
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It’s kitted out with every mod con you could want, king-size beds, 43-inch plasma TVs, outdoor rain showers, and Japanese soaking tubs with ocean views. Oh, and a multi-lingual personal butler who unpacks and can be on call 24/7 to cater to your every whim and transport you all over the resort in a buggy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibX0-oiBylMZQnF6_X2Gk-ZKG68wl8reGJg1nwgdfnGtkJH_BOF2gGg0nwYuYjAAnyX9_VktHj39a4B-R2jW7RIqFPXwUJ12sDfzLmYlw9lKANNJMtBGXS_Mt0D_77dP3YGf6ZP99pz9J9/s1600/exterior+seychelles+villa+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibX0-oiBylMZQnF6_X2Gk-ZKG68wl8reGJg1nwgdfnGtkJH_BOF2gGg0nwYuYjAAnyX9_VktHj39a4B-R2jW7RIqFPXwUJ12sDfzLmYlw9lKANNJMtBGXS_Mt0D_77dP3YGf6ZP99pz9J9/s400/exterior+seychelles+villa+.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our villa came with a personal butler to make our stay ever more spectacular </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgU_0yK7YYZ0QhysRvW36z-WieWllS9KXrZRcYsTVGpa3T-aHflgZ4M49cj6gQqJ7rdg8WqbEOtHJp1TTOSQG-4nqKJ00g41mzEm8rySwQxEmZFqeXdwF8NUZRb53q5DgBzKCyIaudrPDK/s1600/seychelles+villa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgU_0yK7YYZ0QhysRvW36z-WieWllS9KXrZRcYsTVGpa3T-aHflgZ4M49cj6gQqJ7rdg8WqbEOtHJp1TTOSQG-4nqKJ00g41mzEm8rySwQxEmZFqeXdwF8NUZRb53q5DgBzKCyIaudrPDK/s400/seychelles+villa.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My private plunge pool<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyw7AOtKlLD9ptaSXs0eWhaY2RBfMWKjFoCtaGowL18ayeEDVfE_eTzkdaOoaFz7LzMzimP-4ctDcIqm1Hv52x-xdNeSsZ6gDmgS-hlrmu5LRlOgUvPidmISEC2En-gymHqoTIghNj6k6p/s1600/7b3109ce-5d16-4684-8331-f7dd86a7efcd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyw7AOtKlLD9ptaSXs0eWhaY2RBfMWKjFoCtaGowL18ayeEDVfE_eTzkdaOoaFz7LzMzimP-4ctDcIqm1Hv52x-xdNeSsZ6gDmgS-hlrmu5LRlOgUvPidmISEC2En-gymHqoTIghNj6k6p/s400/7b3109ce-5d16-4684-8331-f7dd86a7efcd.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A bath with a view </td></tr>
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I’ve visited Raffles hotels all over the globe and am an ardent fan of the brand. I’m smitten with the pyramid-shaped hotel in Dubai. But it’s not perched on a verdant, lush island with Anse Lazio, the Indian Ocean’s Leading Beach Destination, on its doorstep.<br />
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This was my own personal corner of paradise overlooking Curieuse Island, where tortoises returned to lay their eggs on the most amazing arch of golden sand year after year.Back ‘home’ I just had time to ask the butler for some in-room dining and a cup of tea before falling asleep. But I was up early the next day, and after a dip in the private plunge pool, I ventured down to the beach.<br />
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Snorkelling is a national pastime here, but you don’t need a mask. Once I’d plunged into the warm waters, multi-coloured fish darted all around me, while in the distance, workers near Anse Takamaka checked on the freshwater pearls farmed here.<br />
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The waters are so clear you can see straight to the seabed. I counted barracudas and clown fish in the ocean, while crabs scuttled across the sand. The spectacular scenery made for a walk with the wow factor, which worked up an appetite for the amazing breakfast in the Losean restaurant. Part buffet, part a la carte, this is the best meal of the day as far as I’m concerned. How else do you get the strength to walk the lengths of the endless beaches unless fed on the creamiest of scrambled eggs and lightest of blueberry pancakes?<br />
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No empty bellies here. Food is an important ingredient in the experience of Raffles Praslin. Whether it was a sumptuous snack next to the largest pool on any of the islands in the Seychelles, a beach picnic or barbecue, or an a la carte meal at the Curieuse restaurant, we were left longing to lick our plates as well as our lips.<br />
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There were even cookery lessons available for those able to tear themselves away from their sunloungers and hammocks. Chef whites on in Losean, I was ready to learn the art of making Thai vegetable curry, coleslaw, fluffy steamed white rice and mango soufflé. I chopped, mixed, stirred and finally ate the results with the harshest of critics – my stomach – and, I have to admit, it was all incredibly tasty. I went to bed full and ready to hit the jungle the next day.<br />
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The Vallée de Mai, one of the two Unesco World Heritage sites in the Seychelles, is 19 acres of jungle. Along with rare black parrots, and green geckos, you can see the revered coco de mer palm trees, which grow to be more than 30 metres tall and produce male and female plants. The trees, which are endemic to Praslin and Curieuse, produce giant fruits, which contain the largest seed on earth. The coco de mer is the national icon – and it’s even stamped inside your passport.<br />
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The dense rainforest could have been overwhelming – the palms are so tall they shut out a lot of light, but luckily there were signposts every few metres telling you how far it was to the exit. Of course, I opted for the shortest route and emerged just minutes after entering, much to the amusement of our car driver.<br />
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After the excitement of the jungle it was a quick dash back to the hotel for a stress-relief massage at the award-winning spa. I chose to have it done in one of the 13 luxurious ocean-front treatment rooms where the therapist’s hands and the sounds of the sea crashing against the shore lulled me into a five-star stupor. Ninety deliciously self-indulgent minutes later and it was all I could do to stumble back to where the personal butler was waiting to take me back to villa 200 on a buggy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghItWUT9tvyIsB9v0HF-_TLJSVGFIOgcKILJyxMl4bh7G5xIzJCqWYXR_ihosH6txvBU7qL_AhzqhUKcrkWWxs8tm-Z34C-7KXCdxCRnJSPWQDKCmJovwOLMq7si5tirDKPhcbB4LDRInY/s1600/seychelles+spa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghItWUT9tvyIsB9v0HF-_TLJSVGFIOgcKILJyxMl4bh7G5xIzJCqWYXR_ihosH6txvBU7qL_AhzqhUKcrkWWxs8tm-Z34C-7KXCdxCRnJSPWQDKCmJovwOLMq7si5tirDKPhcbB4LDRInY/s400/seychelles+spa.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alfresco Spa </td></tr>
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My children had gone to explore The Sugar Palm Club – a kids’ club for toddlers to teenagers – and declared the activities, crafts, games and outdoor sports fun. We went to pick them up. ‘Let’s go for another walk,’ the children begged and we ambled along, watching the resort’s wedding planner getting ready for another couple’s big day. Raffles Praslin has seen 22 weddings since April, but it’s not just a newlyweds paradise.<br />
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Picking your way through the giant granite boulders scattered around the nooks and crannies of the coast, it’s easy to see why the islands have been the centre of attention from the British, French, Arabs, Mauritians and Portuguese over the centuries.<br />
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With its stunning scenery, laid-back Creole vibe, and wildlife, the Seychelles has it all – it’s a simple but a sweet life.</div>
About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-30929039121610427102016-09-08T23:41:00.000-07:002016-09-08T23:41:04.923-07:00Friday Recipe: Pesto Pasta With Mozzarella<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The perfect Italian - hot, tasty and good to look at</td></tr>
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The definition of hot? In my house it's Italian, tasty and good to look at. But that's enough about my celebrity chef <a href="http://alexiopasquali.com/" target="_blank">husband</a>. We're talking about his food for our Friday Recipe today! That's why his more-ish dish is a firm family favourite. Quick to rustle up, it's colourful and absolutely delicious. Just watch out for the exploding tomatoes!<br />
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<b>Prep time </b>10 mins <b>Cooking time</b> 20 mins<br />
<b>Serves</b> 4<br />
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<b>Ingredients</b><br />
2 litres salted water<br />
500g fusilli pasta<br />
2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil<br />
250g cherry tomatoes, halved<br />
1 garlic clove, finely chopped<br />
3 tbsp pesto<br />
250g mozzarella balls, drained and broken<br />
Basil, a handful<br />
150g Parmesan, grated<br />
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Bring water to the boil in a medium-size pan over high heat. Add the pasta and cook until <i>al dente </i>according to the packet instructions.<br />
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Meanwhile, heat oil in medium-size frying pan over medium heat. Add cherry tomatoes and garlic. Stir until tomatoes are soft and have a chunky sauce-like consistency. Lower heat to simmer.<br />
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Once pasta is cooked, drain, reserving 100ml of the water. Add pasta to the tomato sauce and toss to combine.<br />
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Add the reserved water, pesto and mozzarella. Stir well and as soon as the sauce is reduced, remove from the heat. Garnish with basil and Parmesan and serve immediately. Enjoy!</div>
About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-90300321324834668572016-09-06T02:45:00.000-07:002016-09-06T02:45:09.619-07:00A Room With A Royal View <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
From mansions, country homes and former castles it's easy to be the Lady of the Manor when you're exploring the best of British places to call home on holiday<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Luton Hoo in Bedfordshire originates from 1601 but has been lavishly <br />redesigned by the architects responsible for the Ritz</td></tr>
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Running my fingers over the silk brocade canopy, I wanted to sink into the four-poster bed. From here I could take in the free-standing Victorian roll-top bath with its claw feet as well as the sumptuous view over the green English countryside.<br />
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All that was needed was a jewellery box big enough to hold a crown and a place by the fireplace for a corgi or two and this would be a room fit for a queen. Which is exactly what it was – for I was in the Elizabeth suite in Luton Hoo, the 18th-century, grade-1-listed mansion where Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, spent their honeymoon in 1947.<br />
They clearly loved it because they came back to celebrate subsequent wedding anniversaries at the Robert-Adam designed manor house, which is now a five-star Elite hotel – and my home for the next 24 hours.<br />
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As rich in history as it is in looks, I was smitten at first sight by the luxurious country pile in Bedfordshire, less than an hour’s drive from London’s Heathrow airport. Perhaps it was the beech-lined drive or the neo-classical facade of the 35-bedroomed house that impressed me.<br />
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Or it could have been the 1,065-acres of pristine gardens and parkland redesigned by Capability Brown, or possibly standing on the steps where former British prime minster Sir Winston Churchill gave his famous speech to thank the 110,000-strong crowd gathered for their support during the Second World War.<br />
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‘Not bad,’ I whispered, marvelling at the view. Having grown up watching Brideshead Revisited and more recently Downton Abbey, I couldn’t fail to be impressed by the exterior of this grandest of country homes.<br />
<br />
But inside what is considered to be one of Britain’s most architecturally important buildings, I was positively swooning. Sweeping oval staircase? Check. Corinthian columns? Check. A Grand Hall complete with a Bergonzoni sculpture? Check.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With its sweeping staircase and lavish dining room, Luton Hoo is fit for royalty.<br />In fact it was the honeymoon destination of Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip</td></tr>
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Having been lavishly redesigned by the same architects who did the Ritz, Luton Hoo, which originates from 1601, has been intrinsically linked to royalty since the late 18th century when the estate was owned by the third Earl of Bute, who was prime minister to George III.<br />
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Wandering around, I oohed over the magnificent dining room, aahed over the objets d’art and couldn’t wait to ring the bell in my decadent room – a smaller but no less impressive version of the Elizabeth suite – to see if a maid would come rushing up to curtsey and serve me tea like I’d seen in reruns of Upstairs Downstairs. Of course, no one dipped at the hip, but a china cup of tea with a biscuit was brought to my room on a tray.<br />
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‘Dinner will be at 7.30pm, Ma’am,’ an impeccably dressed member of staff informed me, and so I had time to sip my tea while trying out the Molton Brown bath products.<br />
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Then it was time to head down the sweeping staircase complete with red carpet – what else? – for dinner at the Beaux-Arts-style Wernher restaurant, named after former owner, diamond dealer Sir Julius Wernher.<br />
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The food was every bit as tasty as the Versailles-style chandeliers, and Belle Epoch surroundings. But even though it was an overwhelmingly stately home-cum-hotel, it felt strangely familiar – and then I discovered why: Luton Hoo is a much sought-after film location. The Lady Butter suite is where Hugh Grant hid in Four Weddings And A Funeral, and the mansion was used in Eyes Wide Shut, The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby, Vanity Fair and Bleak House.<br />
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Knowing that Hollywood’s finest as well as royalty and politicians had eaten here, I sat up a little straighter, made sure I used the right cutlery and vowed to cock my little finger whenever I sipped tea, like the landed gentry do in movies.<br />
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Keeping up with the royals<br />
My chance came over a delicious breakfast of mushrooms, scrambled eggs and baked beans served with hot toast and English Breakfast tea served through a strainer.<br />
‘Enjoy, madam,’ the waiter smiled as my pinky shot out.<br />
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Breakfast over, I jumped into a London black cab – one of the genuine taxis they have here for guests to tour the estate, only unlike the real thing, these are free.<br />
I took in the restored Victorian tennis lawn, the impressive 18-hole golf course and the gorgeous spa.<br />
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I could have spent my entire trip to Great Britain there, but alas, I’d come to follow in more royal footsteps and get to see to see how the latest, and very popular, royal couple Prince William and Kate, Duchess of Cornwall, live.<br />
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The royal babies are bumping up the British economy as tourists flock to visit London, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Duchess, gorgeous George or impossibly cute baby Charlotte. Sales of memorabilia to commemorate the royal family are huge – but I eschewed buying cups, aprons and fridge magnets to get an early night.<br />
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Up with the lark the next morning, I reluctantly bade goodbye to Luton Hoo and hopped on a Virgin train to travel – first class, naturally – to Chester, which is on the border of England and Wales.<br />
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In the land of the red dragon<br />
From Chester it was just a quick hop to the Hawarden Estate farm shop in Flintshire, Wales, where royal bridesmaid extraordinaire Pippa Middleton is a frequent visitor. Selling 250 local varieties of meats and cheeses – along with the most delicious cheese and pickle sandwiches, a favourite of the almost-royal patron apparently – it was no wonder the store-cum-café was packed on a weekday lunchtime.<br />
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‘Mwynhewch eich bwyd! (pronounced Mun-hewc eyck boyd),’ Paul, our Welsh guide, smiled. It means ‘enjoy your meal’ in Welsh, and we did, tucking into ‘sarnies’ made with hunks of bread and pickled onions. Then we jumped back into our sightseeing van – complete with red dragon, the national symbol of Wales, to head to our next home-from-home – Bodysgallen Hall and Spa in Llandudno, North Wales.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Bodysgallen Hall is thought to date back to the 13th century<br /></td></tr>
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A jumble of architectural styles, the Hall is believed to date back to the 13th century, and overlooks Snowdonia and Conwy Castle. Now a National Trust hotel it’s one of those rare places that does look and feel like a real home. All giant fireplaces, low ceilings and nooks and crannies, it is Welsh shabby chic at its finest, and boasts 200 acres of parkland and an award-winning spa.<br />
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Never having been an outdoorsy type – despite being raised on a farm – I turned down the offer of a hike through the countryside on a drizzly afternoon in favour of an indulgent Decleor Time Precious Facial.<br />
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‘Bendigedig,’ (Welsh for fantastic) was all I could mutter after my face was cleansed, massaged, moisturised and soothed into looking its radiant best – just in time for dinner at 1620 Bistro in the former coach house.<br />
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More filling Welsh food followed, along with plenty of talk of the royal parents, who used to live just minutes away in Anglesey. It was the perfect country base for RAF pilot Prince William, although he and Kate are now based at Kensington Palace with their family.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYm_clzv3QwFvRsxOK2ntvX8G5XgEPAK3k7vR1bEkjPZjxTbT-1IdV4CU8cBfHzDnkFHN6KDZ_SWZA8VcF65NQCQxPE74pZmVbue_pfWFABv96_JhmvxTTbG4xIuE6MgQnBnonHAcmoUt/s1600/3102328936.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYm_clzv3QwFvRsxOK2ntvX8G5XgEPAK3k7vR1bEkjPZjxTbT-1IdV4CU8cBfHzDnkFHN6KDZ_SWZA8VcF65NQCQxPE74pZmVbue_pfWFABv96_JhmvxTTbG4xIuE6MgQnBnonHAcmoUt/s640/3102328936.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dining in style at Bodysgallen Hall</td></tr>
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The Hall also boasts another royal connection though. During the First World War Colonel Henry Mostyn, the son of the then-owner Lady Augusta, commanded the 17th Battalion of the Royal Welsh Fusiliers, which he paraded in front of the Hall.<br />
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There’s an oak tree in the park to commemorate it apparently, which other guests donned wellies to go and see, but I was more content reading a book in front of a roaring fire in one of the drawing rooms.<br />
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I retired early to bed – sadly not a four poster – as I was eager to explore the Welsh countryside the next day.<br />
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From Bodysgallen, it was a mere dawdle down the winding lanes to the world-famous Bodnant Gardens, noted for its botanical collections, and the medieval glory of Conwy Castle, built for Edward 1, and one of the most impressive remains still standing in Britain.<br />
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Paul, our guide, gave such a convincing performance of daily life there that I had goosebumps looking at the well, the dungeon and the chapel – and it wasn’t because it was raining and nearly in the minus degrees outside.<br />
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Visiting the castle, and the town of Conwy, I could see why William Wordsworth was inspired to write poetry here. Even in the rain, it was beautiful. Meandering the cobbled streets, I peered into the shops, selling love spoons and tasty Welsh cakes (which taste like a flat scone, but better!) and stared at the walls of the castle in the distance. It was awe-inspiring, like living inside the pages of a history book, where one magically gets transported back in time.<br />
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Letting off steam<br />
That feeling became even greater when we caught the Talyllyn Railway. It’s a historic narrow-gauge steam railway that runs from Abergynolwyn to Tywyn (luckily we didn’t have to say which destination we wanted to get off at, otherwise I would still be there, trying to get my tongue around the tricky words!) and was used to transport coal.<br />
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As well as being allowed up front to let off the engine’s steam with a loud shrill, we discovered the railway was the inspiration for Skarloey Railway in the Thomas the Tank Engine books as the author, the Reverend W Awdry, had volunteered there in 1952.<br />
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Sitting in a tiny carriage, among a cloud of steam, was the perfect way to see the rolling Welsh countryside, and I was sad to clamber back into our van to drive the rest of the journey to our next home at Brecon, in the Wye Valley – the stunning Llangoed Hall.<br />
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Nestled in the shadow of the snow-topped Black Mountains and down a sweeping drive, this Jacobean country house is the epitome of secluded style. Formerly known as Llangoed Castle, it dates back to 1632, and is set in 17 acres just west of Hay on Wye.<br />
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The site is said to have had a house on it since 560AD and was where the first Welsh Parliament was held. It’s had a chequered history since then and was in danger of being demolished in the 1970s until Sir Bernard Ashley – husband of late designer Laura Ashley – bought it.<br />
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I stepped inside, and gasped. Alongside the original Laura Ashley wallpapers and fabrics, the £3.3-million gold and black Steinway piano and carved timber staircase, is a fireplace big enough to sleep in and enough original Whistler sketches to make you, well, whistle.<br />
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Since opening as a luxury country house hotel, no expense has been spared and it shows. Art worth a total of £22-million decorates the walls. My room was a haven of tranquil yellow, while every piece of furniture looked as if it had survived through the centuries.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMqbLag-HbIbBab2gUcJcVfwDY3oCvRInhbVrKKtq7iNi7cFf1gCF4T_V_2ddPrY-e0zcNSSjSOmTps7GJfsKXL1ISKefossdZTtEmYE48aBPT5M0tWwYbu6auzlSHBm5FcOnKTcoZyqsu/s1600/4283019960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMqbLag-HbIbBab2gUcJcVfwDY3oCvRInhbVrKKtq7iNi7cFf1gCF4T_V_2ddPrY-e0zcNSSjSOmTps7GJfsKXL1ISKefossdZTtEmYE48aBPT5M0tWwYbu6auzlSHBm5FcOnKTcoZyqsu/s400/4283019960.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A stay at the grand Llangoed Hall leaves you feeling you were to the manor born</td></tr>
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Dinner, which was hosted by the charming and witty managing director, Calum Milne, in the Whistler Room was a culinary delight. Tucking into five courses of locally sourced and beautifully cooked dishes – ranging from pheasant eggs to beef fillet and appropriately named Dandy ribs – we soaked up the decadent atmosphere of the £6.6-million Whistler collection, which has been on loan to the royal galleries of Queen Elizabeth.<br />
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And then finally, it was up the wooden staircase to my suite where I collapsed, stuffed, on to my bed. It was one of the most comfortable beds I’ve ever slept in, and I drifted off to dream about being the lady of the manor, and returning to Britain for another luxurious visit.<br />
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Surrounded by vintage glamour and historical houses steeped in tradition, I’d had a royally good time.<br />
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Getting there<br />
I was lucky enough to be on a press trip, but would highly recommend every hotel I stayed at. Luton Hoo is a member of Pride of Britain Hotels – a consortium of 44 privately owned independent British hotels. A night’s bed and breakfast costs from £115 per person. To book call Pride of Britain hotels at 0800 089 3929 or visit www.prideofbritainhotels.com. A night’s bed and breakfast at Bodysgallen Hall costs from £179 per room (two sharing). To book visit www.bodysgallen. com. Bed and breakfast at Llangoed Hall starts from £155 per room based on two people sharing. To book visit www.llangoedHall.co.uk. For rail passes, theatre tickets and entrance to top attractions, go to www.visitbritain.com or www.visitbritainshop.com.</div>
About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-52745326292732468102016-09-02T01:22:00.002-07:002016-09-02T01:22:49.532-07:00Friday Recipe: Berry Tiramisu <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simple but stunning Berry Tiramisu - my favourite dessert </td></tr>
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Usually I'm not a dessert kind of gal. Give me a cheese board any time - it's the perfect way to finish off a meal, especially if served with some Malbec or Rioja. But my <a href="http://alexiopasquali.com/" target="_blank">husband </a>is a celebrity chef and Italian - and insists on something sweet at the end of a special three or four course dinner. Recently, he served us these. They're a new, fruity take on a tiramisu and delicious. Now he's taught me how to make them and they're a family favourite. They're so easy to make but look delicious so they're the perfect way to impress friends at a dinner party or to give your family a treat. Enjoy!<br />
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<b>Prep time</b> 10 minutes<br />
<b>Refrigeration time</b> 2 hours<br />
<b>Serves 4</b><br />
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<b>Ingredients</b><br />
6 egg yolks<br />
3 tbsp sugar<br />
450g mascarpone cheese<br />
1 1/2 cups strong espresso coffee, cooled<br />
Berries of your choice, to garnish<br />
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Beat egg yolks and sugar together in your food processor’s mixing bowl for about 5 minutes or until thick and pale.<br />
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Add the mascarpone and beat again until smooth.<br />
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Transfer to a container, cover with cling film and refrigerate for at least two hours.<br />
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When ready to serve, pour the espresso into four stem glasses or dessert bowls.<br />
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Spoon the mascarpone mixture on top and garnish with berries.</div>
About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-60412310330159208542016-08-30T03:21:00.000-07:002016-08-30T03:22:25.574-07:00Crocodiles and Pearls: on the hunt for Australia's finest and most luxurious jewels <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Worth more than a million dollars, the Paspaley Pearl is considered the most beautiful in the world. That's why I braved seaplanes, boats and crocodiles to reach one of the most remote places on earth in search of the most perfect gem nature can offer<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The jetty at remote Kuri Bay where Snappy the crocodile liked to sunbathe</td></tr>
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Glancing down, I smiled. In my hand, I was holding a million dollars. But it wasn’t a fistful of used, crumpled or torn notes. Instead, glistening against my skin, the light bouncing off its pink lustre, sat a rare white, perfectly round, unusually large gem. The Paspaley Pearl.<br />
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Considered so beautiful, the ‘Pearl of Pearls’ is usually only glimpsed in public displays alongside other rare gems, La Peragrina, the 500-year-old pearl famously given to Elizabeth Taylor by husband Richard Burton, and the Hope Diamond, or closely guarded by security men working for the Paspaley family during their private exhibitions.<br />
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Yet here I was, rolling it around between my fingers bouncing it up and down as strands of exquisite pearls were placed around my neck. Welcome to Darwin, Australia, home to the biggest and one of the most famous pearling companies in the world. “Do you like it?” Geraldine Atkins, manager of Darwin’s Paspaley Pearls store, asked, straightening a long opera strand of white pearls worth A$70,000.<br />
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In the mirror, the graduated, impeccably strung strand, which hung almost to my waist, looked amazing. But its beauty paled compared in comparison to the natural, unset Paspaley Pearl, which was harvested in 2003 from the company’s farm on the Kimberley Coast in the northern most region of Western Australia.<br />
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Plucked from a Pinctada Maxima pearl oyster in the South Sea, it has since been kept in the Paspaley family’s private collection, presumably in the hope that it will one day be joined by an equally perfect companion.<br />
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Sadly, so far they haven’t yet managed to discover another rare beauty, but it’s not for lack of trying. Paspaley prides itself on producing the most beautiful pearls in the world – and now I was joining them on the ultimate adventure to search for the perfect gem during the pearl harvest.<br />
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So handing back the Paspaley Pearl, I steeled myself for my next stop: Kuri Bay, one of the most remote and unexplored destinations on earth. A birthing ground for migrating humpback whales in August and September, it’s the historical site of Australia’s first cultured South Sea pearl farm.<br />
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Originally farmed by Japanese pearlers – Kuri Bay was named for Tokuichi Kuribayashi of the Nippo Pearl company in 1956 - it was eventually taken over by the Paspaleys, or Paspalis as they were named when they first came to Western Australia. Fleeing Castellorizo, a Greek island, during the First World War, Theodosis Paspalis settled there with his family, living alongside Aboriginal inhabitants and Asian pearl fisherman.<br />
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His son, Nicholas Senior, learnt the pearling trade, diving for mother of pearl shells to be used making buttons and changed his name to Paspaley.<br />
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Forever searching for the perfect place to grow pearls, he ended up in Kuri Bay, trying to better the Japanese’s mixed luck and pioneered new methods and conditions for the delicate pearl oysters. His son, also called Nicholas, mortgaged his father’s house in 1973, and bought a modern boat to run the operations, after being told by him to make the farm profitable or shut it down.The rest, as they say is history. With 20 farms and a 75-year-old history of producing the best pearls – the company is so fussy it only keeps 1 per cent of the pearls to use in its jewellery collections – Nicholas’s son James is now executive director.<br />
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Kuri Bay was still a working pearl farm until December 2011, but the Paspaleys now use it for VIP clients and a luxury retreat for paying guests who want to get away from it all. There’s no phone, no TV, no wi-fi, and no roads in or out.<br />
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Rugged, remote and rumoured to be life-changingly beautiful, Kuri Bay is only accessible by sea or Grumman Mallard seaplane.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Mallard seaplane once belonged to Christian Dior </td></tr>
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I almost didn’t go. Terrified of travelling in anything that doesn’t have business class, lounge access and a runway, I didn’t think I’d be able to stop hyperventilating or crying for long enough to actually step inside the impossibly tiny-looking plane’s doorway. ‘I’ve seen Flying Doctors on TV,’ I told myself, trying to find some courage. ‘Landing in water in the middle of nowhere is normal out here.’<br />
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But then I heard the farm has pythons, box jellyfish with four-metre tentacles, and a resident crocodile, Snappy, who likes to sun himself on the jetty – the only way onto Kuri Bay.<br />
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“Snappy’s only two metres big,” Richard McLean, Paspaley’s senior pearling advisor, and our guide, smiled. “And he’s never eaten any of our guests yet.”<br />
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Still, that crocodile was bigger than me, but Richard insisted I’d be safe. “There will be three men with you at all times,” he promised and I agreed to go. Besides, the amphibious plane we’d be travelling to Kimberly in, which was built in the 1940s for use during the Second World War, had once belonged to Christian Dior to travel along the French Riviera.<br />
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How could I resist such glamour and history? So taking more than a dozen, deep breaths, I clambered inside, and made myself think of pearls as we took off.<br />
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Two hours later, after soaring over ochre cliffs and coral reefs, we eventually started our descent. Of course, we weren’t going to be landing on tarmac, and so I surreptitiously got into the brace position as the Mallard splashed down at Vansittart Bay, one of Australia’s largest pearl farms, up the coast from Kuri Bay. Needless to say, it was the smoothest touch down I’ve ever known and the water rushing up to the windows was really exciting, not scary at all.<br />
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All the pearling work is done here by a fleet of state-of-the art boats and dedicated crew. I was eager to see what happens, but apprehensive as we were ferried from the Mallard across shark and crocodile-infested waters to the Paspaley 4. I imagined the boat would be filthy with foul-smelling debris from the sea scattered across the decks. Instead it was spotless and more akin to a luxury yacht than a working vessel.<br />
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Richard explained how the oysters benefit from the pristine water here, and are left for up to six years to produce their best pearl.<br />
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Below deck, it was fascinating to watch the Japanese technicians – including the one who’d harvested the Paspaley Pearl – ‘seed’ the oyster so that nacre, the mother of pearl composite material, which makes up the inner shell and the outer, iridescent coating of the pearls, forms around it, secreting six to eight layers a day.<br />
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Standing behind these experts, I watched as they checked the mature oysters for pearls, popping them out like shelling peas. “That’s a good one,” my technician said, handing me a round, pink pearl. In the Sydney and Darwin stores I’d visited, I’d oohed over such gems, but here I was speechless – this was nature at its finest, yielding something so beautiful I could only stare in awe.<br />
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‘Nature never makes mistakes’<br />
My lessons in pearl appreciation meant I could assess the five virtues of each gem harvested – the lustre, complexion, shape, size, and colour. The more iridescent the pearl, the more it shines. For the perfect pearl, it needs to be blemish free, with no marks or dents, and, of course, the bigger the better.<br />
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Shape and colour, I realised were purely personal. I saw nature creating round (considered the most desirable), oval, tear drop (the rarest), triangle, button, baroque, ringed or circle and keishi (the natural ‘gift of gods’ – tiny, misshapen, uncultured, accidental gems ) pearls of white, cream, silver, pink and champagne. The majority of pearls in the world are 7mm in diameter – Paspaley’s are 15mm and over. They were all beautiful. “Nature never makes mistakes,” Sydney’s Sales Associate Ian Foxton had told us back in the showroom. “Your perfect pearl will find you.”<br />
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He was right. As others went for the pink, round pearls, I gravitated towards the misshapen, intriguing baroque pearls in silver. “They’re for connoisseur of pearls,” Ian said, and now I knew why. Each one was unique, a piece of art made out of nacre that when strung together made a modern, statement strand.<br />
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My technician loved them too, and told me about all the largest, most perfect pearls he’d ever found. Oysters that produced small, inferior pearls were rejected, and sent for their flesh and shells to be sold. Only the ones which created the most gorgeous gems were re-seeded and put back in the South Seas to create another beauty for a second and maximum third time.<br />
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The rest of the operation was all about keeping them happy – cleaning the oysters regularly so that every bit of ‘goodness’ goes into the pearl, and making sure they were infection free and living in optimum conditions. Placed in water, the harvested pearls were later put in the safe, but were brought out in the captain’s quarters for us to inspect.<br />
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The best of the best<br />
There were huge plastic tanks of them – they looked like pretty marbles. Every shape and colour, they were just as nature made them – stunning and untouched. Paspaley pearls are simply washed to get the sand off, and that’s that. They’re not polished or coloured, and only the best are kept by the company – the majority are auctioned off.<br />
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“We have to be fussy,” Richard explained. “We use only the best of the best. We have a reputation to keep.”<br />
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Just as he spoke, someone accidentally tipped over one of the containers and hundreds of pearls scattered all over the floor. Grateful my clumsiness wasn’t responsible, we helped pick them up and went for lunch. I didn’t know if it was the sea air, the adrenaline from flying in the Mallard or being surrounded by pearls all day, but I was ravenous. I ignored the pearl meat on offer – delicious apparently – and tucked into freshly-made pizza and salad.<br />
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Then, bellies full, it was off to another boat, the support vessel, the Roslynne to see more of the top-secret operations – cleaning and caring for the oysters in the sea – before it was back to the Mallard, and off to Kuri Bay for a meet and greet with Snappy. Luckily, he was content to lie in the sea and watch us land, his eyes just poking above the water, so I scuttled up the jetty to safety. I almost hurtled head-long into Chef Pearce and his partner Andrea, who look after guests during their stay.<br />
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“Lime juice?” Chef Pearce offered, handing me a drink and ice-cold towel to wipe my hands and face. Thirst quenched, I was given a tour of the facilities – the lounge over-looking the jetty, the open-air dining room, the bar, the swimming pool, and finally, the guest rooms.<br />
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I’d expected to rough it in the wilderness, but this was a five-star idyll, hidden away from the rat-race, and packed with every home comfort. My room was the epitome of colonial chic, with ceiling fan, polished dark wood furniture and floor, turn-down service and a shared bathroom with a killer view over the bay.<br />
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Dinner was in one hour so there was just time for a dip in the outdoor pool – swimming was banned in the sea because of Snappy and his tawny shark and box jellyfish friends – before it was time to eat.<br />
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Dining alfresco is always fun, and it was amazing to watch the sunset over the azure waters as canapes were served. Being over 200km from civilisation, I’d have been happy with a sandwich. But this was a Michelin-starred-styled feast, with soup, gnocchi and home-made ice-cream to rival anything I’ve eaten in Dubai. Talking under the inky sky, dotted by stars meant it was a late night. With Aboriginal art and whale watching on the agenda for the next day, there was no choice but to get up early.<br />
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Our guides John and Ron split us into two groups and we set off in small boats in search of the whales – who’d been spotted with their calves just a couple of days earlier – and to fish, if we wanted, while we took in the raw beauty of the bay.<br />
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We passed by Sheep Island where 210 people with 2,500 sheep tried to settle in 1864. Within a year, thanks to the harsh conditions and a less-than-friendly welcome from the Aboriginals, they abandoned the settlement. All that’s left now are a few headstones of the lost community.<br />
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The whales and fish were just as scarce, so after a picnic in the boat, we returned to Kuri Bay, and freshened up, ready for another sumptuous dinner under the stars.<br />
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I took it easy the next day – our last here – reading my book under the shade, while others went on an energetic hike across the cliffs. I was glad I did as I was the only who didn’t have green ant bites as we sat down for supper. It made for a great story as my fellow guests described hacking through the undergrowth and stepping onto the ants’ nest, with the bites hurting so much, they had to jump into a cold stream.<br />
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Up early the next morning to beat the low tide, sitting in the boats waiting for the Mallard to arrive, I was sad to be going back to civilisation. I’d loved unplugging here, but the modern world beckoned, and so I boarded the Mallard for my final – and most scenic – flight.<br />
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A ‘frenzied drop’<br />
On the flight to Broome we passed over Montgomery Reef, Australia’s largest inshore reef – 292km to be exact, which reveals trapped fish, sharks, turtles and ray when the tide retreats so quickly – and Horizontal Falls.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flying over Australia's Horizontal Halls in our private plane</td></tr>
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Described by Sir David Attenborough as “one of the greatest natural wonders of the world”, they’re created by the region’s huge tides creating a build-up of water pressure, which then pushes through a tiny gap of 10-20 metres wide, causing a ‘frenzied drop’ of several metres from one side to the other.<br />
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Left marvelling in wonder, it was an anti-climax to come back down to earth. Luckily, I still had plenty of pearl encounters to cheer me up – not just a tour of the streets of Broome, where I saw what was billed as the world’s biggest pearl, but a meeting with the Paspaley jewellers.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Broome beach - the home of the Paspaley Jewellers' pearl workshop </td></tr>
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Designer Sebastian Kappen took me around the Darwin showroom where I watched pearls being strung (Paspaley restrings customers’ pearls every year at no charge, explained Richard, to keep them looking their best) and saw pearls adorned with diamonds and precious gems to make a woman drool.<br />
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Paspaley’s head of design, German-born Jurgen Kammler, created the head-turning Embrace the Sea collier, using 136 rare Keshi pearls and pave set diamonds, after watching his son collect shells from the Darwin seashore where he lives. As creative director Christine Salter said, “A Paspaley masterpiece is something more – a sensual sculptured work of art inspired by nature, with a story behind it that makes it even more meaningful.”<br />
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After seeing the vast operation behind the creation of each pearl and the helping hand nature plays in making each one spectacular, I now suspect it’s pearls and not diamonds that are truly a girl’s best friend.<br />
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Of course, I’ll never be able to afford the Paspaley Pearl, so a pair of baroque earrings are on my Christmas list instead – but for now, I’ve got an oyster shell from the Paspaley 4. It’s on the side of my bath being used as a soap dish, so every time I take a dip I’ll remember my amazing visit.<br />
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You can see the pearls <a href="http://www.paspaley.com/collection/odyssey" target="_blank">here </a>- shot in some of the breath-taking places I visited. I was lucky enough to go on a press trip with Paspaley but all the opinions here are my own. Sadly, I didn't get a pearl!<br />
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About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-3199699302398297162016-08-25T10:44:00.003-07:002016-08-26T02:45:48.659-07:00Friday Recipe: Gazpacho with Mozzarella wedges <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Who needs a holiday abroad when the weather has been this glorious? Visits to the beach opposite, splashing in the sea and getting a (slight) tan have made for fun, family days this week. But it's too hot to cook isn't it?<br />
That's where a celebrity chef <a href="http://alexiopasquali.com/" target="_blank">husband</a> comes in handy. He's whipped up this delicious summer cooler for supper tonight: Gazpacho with Mozzarella wedges. It's a Spanish classic but Alexio has given it an Italian twist with the Mozzarella wedges. Serve as a starter in shot glasses at a barbecue or on its own for the perfect family dinner. Buon appetito!<br />
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<b>Prep time </b>20 mins and overnight<br />
<b>Serves 4</b><br />
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<b>Ingredients</b><br />
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6 ripe tomatoes, peeled and chopped<br />
1 purple onion, chopped<br />
1 cucumber, peeled and chopped<br />
1 red or green pepper, seeded and chopped<br />
1 garlic clove, minced<br />
1 bunch parsley, chopped<br />
1 handful chives, chopped<br />
250ml tomato juice<br />
1 tbsp red grape vinegar<br />
Extra virgin olive oil, a drizzle<br />
1 lemon, juice of<br />
6 drops Tabasco sauce<br />
Worcester sauce, to taste<br />
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<b>To serve</b><br />
4 mozzarella balls<br />
Red cabbage<br />
Crusty bread<br />
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Blitz all the soup ingredients in a food processor until you get your desired consistency.<br />
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Pour into a bowl or plastic container, cover and refrigerate overnight to allow the flavours to develop.<br />
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When ready to serve, ladle into soup bowls, drizzle olive oil on top and season.<br />
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Cut mozzarella into wedges and arrange on top. Garnish with red cabbage, serve with crusty bread.<br />
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About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-47457063041577825872016-08-23T00:58:00.005-07:002016-08-23T01:17:25.512-07:00Cast away on a magical Disney Cruise <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Fun ahoy! I test my sea legs and casts away with Captain Jack Sparrow, Mickey Mouse and the whole Disney crew on board a magical cruise from Miami to the Bahamas<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Ship-shape - the Disney Wonder harks back to the golden age of shipping<br />
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The glint of his gold tooth matched the one in his kohl-rimmed eye. “My ship – that makes me captain. Savvy?” he grinned. I blinked, taking in Captain Jack Sparrow’s chiselled features, leather hat, beaded accessories and long brown hair.<br />
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I don’t know why I was so surprised there was a pirate on board – our ship was heading for the Bahamas in the Caribbean, after all. So who better to sail the seas with than a Johnny Depp lookalike? My 10-year-old son had the answer. “Look,” Deme said, pointing to the top of the red funnel. There, ready to fly down a zip wire in full pirate regalia, was Mickey Mouse, complete with an eye patch and bandana.<br />
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There was a collective gasp as the most famous mouse in the world launched himself into the air and flew over our heads while a firework display that can only be described as magical exploded all around him. “Not bad me hearties,” my son said, brandishing his plastic sword as Captain Jack and Mickey were joined by Captain Hook, Mr Smee, Minnie and Goofy.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fireworks at sea! Disney knows how to throw a pool party (even at night)</td></tr>
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We were at the Pirates In the Caribbean party on the top deck of the Disney Wonder as we headed from Miami on a four-day cruise to Nassau, Bahamas. But this was no ordinary voyage. As you can imagine, Disney brings its own brand of magic to family cruising.<br />
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Its four award-winning ships boast state-of-the-art luxury and entertainment including Broadway-style shows, a deck of children’s activities, 3-D film premiers at a private cinema, fine dining and a coterie of your favourite cartoon characters. Plus, it’s the only cruise line to have firework displays at sea.<br />
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So far, so splendid. Which is why when someone mentioned spotting a competitor’s huge ship alongside us in port, entertainment director Ray laughed, “They might have a bigger house, but we’re cruising with Mickey Mouse.”<br />
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Believe me, it doesn’t come much better than that. From the moment we stepped aboard in Miami – to claps and cheers along with a name check from the liveried staff no less – we knew we were in for an amazing adventure.<br />
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“Look, Aerial,” Deme said, pulling a face as we passed a golden statue of the flame-haired mermaid in the lobby, and, “oh cool, the latest Disney movies” flicking on the TV in our family-sized sea-view stateroom.<br />
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The cruise line shows the newest Disney films the moment they’re released, so we had the latest Bourne movie in our cabin and in the Walt Disney cinema below deck. “Well we own the movies so why not?” Ray said.<br />
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Even at first glance it was obvious there was something for everyone to enjoy on board. From a dedicated nursery, catering to babies as young as three months, up to 17-year-old teenagers with their own Vibe club, there were loads of activities for kids.<br />
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My son could even choose which club he wanted to belong to – the Oceaneer Club (ages three - ten) with arts, crafts, storytelling, music and dancing, or the science-themed Oceaneer Lab (ages three – ten) where he could make flubber (green rubbery goo), take part in karaoke, make a racing car out of soap or go to a pyjama party.<br />
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And because he was ten, he could also join in with the tweens in Edge (ages 11- 14) in their chill-out lounge if I gave him written permission. There were even complimentary wave phones so we could stay in touch, but first we wanted to explore.<br />
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The golden age of shipping I’d imagined the ship would look very Disney Channel – all primary colours and aimed at toddlers and small children. But in fact it was uber glamorous, with more than a nod to the golden age of shipping.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Sailing in style on board the Disney Wonder in the Bahamas<br />
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It was, explained crew leader Steve, who gave us a guided tour, inspired by the Titanic. That wasn’t exactly the most reassuring name to hear on board a 40-million-kilogram ship miles out at sea, but Steve quickly explained that Disney had adopted the art-nouveau style from the doomed liner to give the Wonder its classic elegant finish.<br />
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There are sweeping staircases, Venetian glass, marble finishes and beautiful carpets. In one of the corridors there are even original sketches and stills from the Disney film archives to buy as the ultimate holiday souvenir.<br />
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In our stateroom – which was as big as the average hotel’s and had a childproof-locked balcony – there was a black and white picture of Walt Disney with his wife on deck.<br />
I stared at it closely, looking for a peek into the mind behind Mickey Mouse and all the other characters that have spawned a billion-dollar business.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our cabin was as luxurious as any hotel room </td></tr>
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The company’s cruise line is so popular it is responsible for a quarter of the overall profit growth in Disney’s multi-billion-a-year parks and resorts division. It’s easy to see how – apart from the prow to stern cartoon characters to pose with and pet – Disney always does things better and that’s because it literally thinks of everything.<br />
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There’s a split bathroom in the cabin with a dinky bath, shower and sink in one half and a toilet and sink in the other so two people can get ready at the same time. You also get to visit your very own private island, Castaway Cay, with its powdery white beaches, and even a yours-for-the-cruise waiter who moves with you from restaurant to restaurant for the entire voyage (“so they know your likes and build up a rapport,” says Steve). With nothing to worry about, that left us to meander the Wonder’s 11 decks. And we hadn’t even thought about stepping ashore!<br />
<br />
GO WEST<br />
As I watched The Lion King on Funnel Vision – a giant cinema-style screen on the side of the funnel – while floating in one of the three heated pools, I realised that most of the 2,400 guests on board would be happy just to be sailing around for four days without leaving the ship.<br />
<br />
It was as if our first stop the next day at Key West, with its pretty pastel clapboard houses and Key West Museum of Art & History’s Giant Ballroom Dancers statue – based on Renoir’s Dance in the City painting – was an inconvenience; precious time away from our new nautical home.<br />
<br />
But we forced ourselves to head down the pretty boulevard, peer into the souvenir shops and ponder whether we should go on an eco-friendly shark-viewing trip. But one look at the teeth on the pictures outside the booth made up my mind, even though the tour guide insisted it was perfectly safe.<br />
<br />
Instead of being shark bait, I opted for the quirky stores lining the quay. Shopaholics can pick up diamonds, tanzanite, pearls and anything you’d care to grab made of bamboo. We could have spent eight hours ashore, but why go shopping when there’s the ultimate liner waiting for us?<br />
<br />
So we scurried back, grabbed some delicious pasta salads and sweets at Blanket Bay, the top-deck buffet diner, then lay our towels next to the main family pool to soak up the Florida sun. Dads splashed their children, mums read their Kindles and kids helped themselves to all-inclusive soft drinks and ice creams while catching their favourite movies on Funnel Vision or watching the poolside sing and dance shows.<br />
<br />
As the sun began to set, there was time for a quick wave to Chip and Dale and the Disney princesses before heading back to our stateroom to shower and change for the pre-dinner evening theatre show.<br />
The first night was a magic show by Scott Pepper, who made cutting his pretty assistant in half hilarious. Luckily there was no blood, but I, along with all the other adults in the 977-seater theatre, craned forward to see exactly how he did it and came away mystified.<br />
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Next up was a formal dinner at Parrot Cay, one of the three post-show restaurants. A fourth, Palo’s, is available at a small extra cost and worth every dollar if you love Italian food like we do. But there’s really no need if you don’t want to dip into your on-shore spending money – Parrot Cay has a Caribbean feel and flavour, Tritons serves American and French cuisine (try the Chef Louis French onion soup, it’s delicious!), and Animator’s Palate is enchanting.<br />
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The food is amazing, but you’ll be too busy, like us, staring at the Disney characters magically appearing and lighting up on the walls (more brand magic) as the night goes on.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFgx_S2AgU1EEvOkrNq4GhH981Ch2cAL8zBPeLd_4VsRpix_RlmRIeu84fc73iZTiZd-GqZHReVd2STUwztv_AXLee96wAYGM1f42omV_mRNWm5ilXVFQJ2orcXxy0B5MgoLF-2Bqv0vbu/s1600/815878437.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFgx_S2AgU1EEvOkrNq4GhH981Ch2cAL8zBPeLd_4VsRpix_RlmRIeu84fc73iZTiZd-GqZHReVd2STUwztv_AXLee96wAYGM1f42omV_mRNWm5ilXVFQJ2orcXxy0B5MgoLF-2Bqv0vbu/s400/815878437.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The food on board the Disney Wonder was fantastic for all the family</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
After dinner it was time for a moonlight stroll and an early night, as we would be able to disembark early at Nassau. If we’d wanted we could have taken part in family karaoke, watched a film at the cinema or my son could have been entertained or made lava flow (whatever that is!) in one of the three kids’ clubs. Instead we headed to our stateroom to watch the moon outside our window and be lulled to sleep by the gentle waves.<br />
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That set the tone for the rest of the cruise – tearing ourselves away from the ship when we docked in the Bahamas (who would ever think that would seem like a chore!) and grinning as we stepped back on deck at the end of the afternoon. Then it was down to the theatre for The Golden Mickeys, a toe-tapping tribute to the Disney’s classic films that wouldn’t have looked out of place on the West End. All the stars have genuine talent and experience in theatre and it shows.<br />
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As well as The Golden Mickeys, we also saw Disney Dreams and Toy Story The Musical, which was humorous, original (though we all know the story) and totally captivating.<br />
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Buzz, with his plastic hair and swingy arms, was so amazing that Deme kept asking if he was a robot. There are two shows a day – one pre- and one post-dinner – and we loved it so much we wanted to go to both! “That was the best show ever,” Deme said, as we headed off to our cabin.<br />
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SANDY PARADISE<br />
It was hard to imagine that anything could top the show until I woke up the next morning and looked out my window. White sandy beaches fringed with swaying palms and lapped by azure waves filled the view. Disney’s Castaway Cay is a private piece of paradise, where you can swim with stingrays, snorkel among brightly coloured fish, splash in the lagoon, slide down the Pelican Plunge or simply relax on one of the three family (or one adults-only) beaches.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvUP89K6QWQbhk-4MJxt1vYyukjkNFE2bXlNUtnqpzkT-SxnLn_krNPtY9pUEMO5mESsY9eYwT9QJfRfP5hdLgjvvSRbXNZCq9lj7IvUJtmHYjh6Ce0w_39T5tGTSg8nP5-wZFg0HNKFZ7/s1600/castaway+cay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvUP89K6QWQbhk-4MJxt1vYyukjkNFE2bXlNUtnqpzkT-SxnLn_krNPtY9pUEMO5mESsY9eYwT9QJfRfP5hdLgjvvSRbXNZCq9lj7IvUJtmHYjh6Ce0w_39T5tGTSg8nP5-wZFg0HNKFZ7/s400/castaway+cay.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Cast away on Disney's private island Castaway Cay</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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That’s the beauty of a Disney cruise; they take the best from the ship ashore. All the clubs hold activities all day, and the catering crew set up a beachside barbecue so you can tuck into burgers, hot dogs and corn on the cob while being serenaded by an island band. Bliss. So blissful in fact that while Deme took part in a Whale Tooth Dig I nodded off on my sun lounger.<br />
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There was just one more night before we set sail back to Miami, but it was the perfect ending to a magical four days. It was rather fitting that the favourite characters, including Captain Jack Sparrow, were waiting to say goodbye as we left the ship. But we can’t wait to set foot on deck again, this time as the Disney Magic cruises the Med.<br />
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“Will there be another pirate party?” Deme asked, his eyes gleaming. I nodded, making a note to pack our bandanas and some kohl. After all, you can’t on a Disney cruise and not be ship-shape. Savvy?<br />
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About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-62014511265196353602016-08-19T01:18:00.001-07:002016-08-19T01:18:45.486-07:00Friday Recipe: Ricotta & Spinach Cannelloni <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX3nFv7AQXbUInsXeAhRtph-yEBA3w1i70k5A5cOqIPjnET8sVV6vuFKM6CILYMdp0YbkIm8YYJ6pWfPRnNebEm6bTTAxbdKMq76EDcko3gIsZ1Pyv-SZUJnCEMDBZ1UMe5y4HH7L1eqxi/s1600/ricotta+and+spinach+cannellloni.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX3nFv7AQXbUInsXeAhRtph-yEBA3w1i70k5A5cOqIPjnET8sVV6vuFKM6CILYMdp0YbkIm8YYJ6pWfPRnNebEm6bTTAxbdKMq76EDcko3gIsZ1Pyv-SZUJnCEMDBZ1UMe5y4HH7L1eqxi/s400/ricotta+and+spinach+cannellloni.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hot, cold, with salad or own their own I simply love Italian favourite ricotta and spinach cannelloni </td></tr>
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Whenever it's a special occasion, like a birthday or an anniversary, my <a href="http://alexiopasquali.com/" target="_blank">husband </a>always ask where I'd like to go to celebrate. The answer is easy: home. That's because I'm a fussy, strict vegetarian and he's the best chef going so why eat anywhere else? Plus he always makes my favourite - ricotta and spinach cannelloni. Hot, cold, on their own or with salad, I never tire of them. Now he's letting me share his family recipe so I hope you like them as much as I do...<br />
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<b>Prep time </b>1 hour <b>Resting time </b>2 hours<br />
<b>Cooking time</b> 35-40 mins <b>Serves </b>4<br />
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<b>Ingredients </b><br />
1 kg spinach leaves<br />
1 onion, chopped<br />
1 garlic clove, minced<br />
2 tbsp olive oil<br />
500g passata<br />
100ml cold water<br />
250g ricotta<br />
I egg<br />
Butter, to grease baking tray<br />
1 box dried cannelloni (around 30 tubes)<br />
300ml extra thick double cream<br />
100g Parmesan, grated<br />
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Wash the spinach leaves then cook them in 2 litres of boiling, salted water for 4 minutes. Drain and leave to cool.<br />
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Sauté the onion and garlic in the olive oil over medium heat until softened and translucent.<br />
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Add the passata and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat and simmer for 10 minutes. Slowly add the cold water until you have a thick sauce-like consistency, then simmer for another 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.<br />
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Roughly chop the cooled spinach and mix together with the ricotta. Season and stir in the egg.<br />
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Grease a baking tray with butter.<br />
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Now it’s the fun bit – filling the cannelloni with the spinach and ricotta mixture. The quickest (and cleanest) way to do it is to use an icing bag to pipe the mixture into the dried cannelloni. Hold a canneloni tube in one hand and pipe until it’s full right to the end. If you don’t have a piping bag, spoon the filling into a ziplock plastic bag, snip off a corner, and proceed as above.<br />
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Spread a thin layer of the passata sauce in the bottom of a baking dish and then add the cannelloni tubes, making sure they touch each other.<br />
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About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-34790809923587977312016-08-16T09:31:00.002-07:002016-08-18T02:23:02.643-07:00Shopping: Seaside Chic<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Give me life in the fast lane any day, I used to cry. After twenty plus years in London and five more in Dubai I couldn’t get enough of glass and steel twisting towers, packed streets, the tube (or metro as it’s called in the UAE’s pseudo American drawl), gleaming malls and eight-lane highways.<br />
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But now we’re back in Blighty, having bought a house a stone’s throw from the beach. And guess what? My urban, minimal furniture and accessories look completely out of place in our beach house. So now we need to redecorate and go shopping. Here are my favourite pieces.<br />
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<b>SHABBY BUT OH-SO-CHIC STORAGE </b>£23, <a href="http://www.pasx.co.uk/" target="_blank">pasx </a><br />
It's rustic and looks like I could have just knocked it together from a piece of driftwood I picked up from the beach. Perfect for keeping all my knick-knacks in one place.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVmbaBy6bC8nd_HjV6pNL-djyS6gI86jUFc1QY403sfHMVm-SjklfrPM6Onj8tk4UgQ_0UCrYMkn6O0E8u3WcVl19F9OAtNobQdGFRQtqF4glQKVlvcvdnyAkK5uIksf9uh6wlJS_jznjC/s1600/Small+Seaside+Storage+Chest+%25C2%25A323+PASX.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVmbaBy6bC8nd_HjV6pNL-djyS6gI86jUFc1QY403sfHMVm-SjklfrPM6Onj8tk4UgQ_0UCrYMkn6O0E8u3WcVl19F9OAtNobQdGFRQtqF4glQKVlvcvdnyAkK5uIksf9uh6wlJS_jznjC/s400/Small+Seaside+Storage+Chest+%25C2%25A323+PASX.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Small storage unit </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>SEASIDE ARROW SIGN</b>, £4.50, <a href="http://www.livelaughlove.co.uk/" target="_blank">Live Laugh Love </a><br />
Living in a beach house means getting used to having things around me that have no purpose other than to be fun or decorative. So no more minimalism, but at least I'll always be able to find my way to the beach. It's over there!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9NJLSMBwejFP_jfoYjnbR10yskDiTyFoH0wFOG6Jkd3OTJdbclt4zopnzTfbXmMN5ZmR9v9ZBPgRB15TirxD5nKnyP6Trp8urP9QY27nXCL2HtMFAUVQ_l8Nvi3wFOU13gJKZYdk3Q0bv/s1600/SEASIDE+Arrow+Sign+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9NJLSMBwejFP_jfoYjnbR10yskDiTyFoH0wFOG6Jkd3OTJdbclt4zopnzTfbXmMN5ZmR9v9ZBPgRB15TirxD5nKnyP6Trp8urP9QY27nXCL2HtMFAUVQ_l8Nvi3wFOU13gJKZYdk3Q0bv/s400/SEASIDE+Arrow+Sign+.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sign of the times - or the beach? </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>BEACH HUTS AND BOATS CANVAS</b>, £10, <a href="http://www.arthouse.com/" target="_blank">Arthouse </a><br />
Cool Britannia! Whimsical and fun, this picture brightens up any room. I'd hang it in my kitchen which looks over the harbour. I get the scent of the sea in the morning as the fishing boats come back in and the sun in the afternoon. With this I'd always be able to see the beach too (though mine has pebbles not sand.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHM0TY4q6c5-SsKVFFLRiSvg8g2RvbhAC83Nb3RKLjhC1RTT2PcPqrOJgi8hg4zHtIhnNXCoc_G0NZcYv2TcXNMrzfUZgBmLNYADAmMrfNbFSYB5lFyPPTfQNt0pDT9OznXEDBefQMG0gW/s1600/Illustrative+Beach+Huts+%2526+Boats+Canvas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHM0TY4q6c5-SsKVFFLRiSvg8g2RvbhAC83Nb3RKLjhC1RTT2PcPqrOJgi8hg4zHtIhnNXCoc_G0NZcYv2TcXNMrzfUZgBmLNYADAmMrfNbFSYB5lFyPPTfQNt0pDT9OznXEDBefQMG0gW/s400/Illustrative+Beach+Huts+%2526+Boats+Canvas.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture perfect: Oh I do love to be beside the seaside.<br />
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</tbody></table>
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<b>ROCKING DECK CHAIR- SUFFOLK STRIPE </b>£79 <a href="http://www.idyllhome.co.uk/" target="_blank">Idyll Home </a><br />
OK, so it's the wrong name - I live in Sussex not Suffolk, but I can live with that. After all, just look at this chair: the stripy fabric and beech frame look vintage and it rocks. Yes, it ROCKS! Whether I'm down the beach, staring out to sea, being lulled by the waves, or in my garden, staring at the harbour, I'll be rocking a good look. Did I mention that it rocks? I'm saving up already...<br />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1471362721174_8812" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px; font-family: arial, 'helvetica neue', helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKxQQxnHhLPZZDtI6kt7pUJvIlzF6Dr3-rYfpsLbUVx7TJS9A4axeTglqG0qmCjmuqQ8tj5Y3WPhnfXYEzEcNMP7o0C-AKP-pdBnB9Nyx6B5Agazv8uc7PmwGmAHMQvf6tGQdqzEXn-5bp/s1600/Rocking+Deck+Chair+-+Suffolk+Stripe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKxQQxnHhLPZZDtI6kt7pUJvIlzF6Dr3-rYfpsLbUVx7TJS9A4axeTglqG0qmCjmuqQ8tj5Y3WPhnfXYEzEcNMP7o0C-AKP-pdBnB9Nyx6B5Agazv8uc7PmwGmAHMQvf6tGQdqzEXn-5bp/s400/Rocking+Deck+Chair+-+Suffolk+Stripe.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'll be sitting pretty on this gorgeous deck chair</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>LONDON AND BRIGHTON CUSHIONS</b>, £45 each, Evermade at <a href="http://www.redcandy.co.uk/" target="_blank">Red Candy </a><br />
City or the sea? Both have my heart and now I don't have to choose thanks to these gorgeous limited edition cushions. Only 100 cushions in each design have ever been made so snap them up quick, especially as I'm going to grab one of each. I love the grey pigeon London one but the blue, white and grey Brighton cushion with the seagull in his sailor hat, is just as cute. They'll look nautical but nice on my sofa.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPGor79JgCG99xGbSr1XJlslzG822WHSfjjLKZ1Jsn9CcuwA-5UINtByBlYI9JdStK98vhxwGnAgOT4pIXOt0XzDg6QroRG6EUmsnc2jA3L8g_iOKwiSsUQvaXWpRbdIBTnut98HIF6HJ8/s1600/1421218_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPGor79JgCG99xGbSr1XJlslzG822WHSfjjLKZ1Jsn9CcuwA-5UINtByBlYI9JdStK98vhxwGnAgOT4pIXOt0XzDg6QroRG6EUmsnc2jA3L8g_iOKwiSsUQvaXWpRbdIBTnut98HIF6HJ8/s400/1421218_m.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Urban chic - the London pigeon </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjXvLwjVvNTNsierIqwYyZzwS-meIvpljL9nSzISIh4OFPR04o6J10Vh99eoAt24o1t43cDWfEoGkMbJdzl-W2P65AcPZ-kJXwUhAwZFLhErJZdx18pjASn6owcPojlBsxflKRBeSbzH7O/s1600/1421219_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjXvLwjVvNTNsierIqwYyZzwS-meIvpljL9nSzISIh4OFPR04o6J10Vh99eoAt24o1t43cDWfEoGkMbJdzl-W2P65AcPZ-kJXwUhAwZFLhErJZdx18pjASn6owcPojlBsxflKRBeSbzH7O/s400/1421219_m.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coastal style, the cute seagull cushion </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-50869501596018977312016-08-12T04:21:00.001-07:002016-08-12T05:37:39.288-07:00Friday Recipe: Rustic Minestrone <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Being married to a celebrity <a href="http://alexiopasquali.com/" target="_blank">chef</a> has its perks. There's never any shortage of creative, delicious dishes on the menu and the smell of fresh food wafting from the kitchen.<br />
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But it does take its toll on your waistline and sometimes my husband works so hard cooking for other people that we have to watch him on TV or <a href="https://youtu.be/kd88E-6ChJc" target="_blank">YouTube</a> to see him. Luckily he's agreed to share his favourite recipes here on my blog every Friday and here's the first one, Rustic Minestrone.<br />
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It's a recipe Alexio's grandmother and mother used to cook for him and now he makes it for our children who love it too. It's simple and easy to follow. Enjoy!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvx0TRHRapUQSLHlQBqjIHEdQ21khBewZjmbGsfMzm537L7vPGDfSehN9ixuApEbFh-aR0D8-E03mGuNAAUhxV3b5vk5xXEjtaAieBT37fDCxLUJmt9o4VphyI7Puy9E8grKo3FsmK8pzy/s1600/celebrity+chef+Alexio+Pasquali%2527s+Rustic+Minestrone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvx0TRHRapUQSLHlQBqjIHEdQ21khBewZjmbGsfMzm537L7vPGDfSehN9ixuApEbFh-aR0D8-E03mGuNAAUhxV3b5vk5xXEjtaAieBT37fDCxLUJmt9o4VphyI7Puy9E8grKo3FsmK8pzy/s400/celebrity+chef+Alexio+Pasquali%2527s+Rustic+Minestrone.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just like an Italian celebrity chef makes! Alexio Pasquali's rustic minestrone</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
RUSTIC MINESTRONE<br />
<b>Prep Time </b>10 mins <b>Cooking time</b> 45 Mins <b>Serves </b>4<br />
<br />
<b>Ingredients</b><br />
2 tbsp olive oil<br />
1/4 white onion, finely chopped<br />
1 garlic clove, finely chopped<br />
1 carrot, washed and cubed<br />
1 celery stick, chopped<br />
100ml passata<br />
1 1/2 - 2 litres cold water or vegetable stock<br />
100g canned borlotti beans, drained and rinsed<br />
1 courgette, chopped<br />
1 medium potato, peeled and cut into cubes<br />
50g French beans, trimmed and cut<br />
80g Parmesan cheese grated<br />
Place the olive oil in a large pan over medium heat.<br />
<br />
Add the onion and garlic and saute until translucent.<br />
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Next, add the carrot and celery and stir until softened, making sure the vegetables don’t stick to the bottom of the pan.<br />
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Pour in the pastata, stir and then add the cold water or vegetable stock.<br />
<br />
Bring to the boil, cook for about 20 minutes then turn down the heat to reduce.<br />
<br />
Add the remaining vegetables and leave to cook for 15 minutes.<br />
<br />
Ladle the soup into bowls and serve hot with bread and a sprinkle of Parmesan.<br />
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About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-58525446394870759552016-08-06T08:44:00.002-07:002016-08-12T05:39:07.728-07:00A magical mother and daughter holiday in Mauritius <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/tSocWFRKc04/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/tSocWFRKc04?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<br />
No one enjoys a beach holiday more than me and, luckily, my daughter is just as obsessed with the sand, sea and sunshine. Today was the first day we've walked along the pebble beach near our home since returning from Dubai and we even dipped our toes in the icy sea.<br />
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'This is fun,' my eight-year-old giggled as I thought about taking off my cardigan. Well we have been away five years and became used to scorching summers where the mercury regularly went over 50 degrees C.<br />
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It has been a fantastic British summer's day and reminded me of the first mother and daughter holiday we took to Mauritius. There we spotted giant tortoises and were spoiled in the spa. Here we had our dog, and I'll be doing a DIY manicure for us both later. But at least I'll have our video to watch...<br />
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About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-75530882948734912092011-06-24T02:32:00.000-07:002011-06-24T02:32:38.877-07:00Anyone For Tennis?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It was confession time but I wasn't sure if my sins could be forgiven. It had only been a week, but I'd broken every rule. I'd eaten carbs, drunk red wine and scoffed the childrens' sweets when they were at school. </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And now I was about to be punished for it on on the scales. Sighing, I hopped on, praying that balancing on one foot would miraculously make me weigh less. No chance. I'd put on three lbs.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">'That's it,' my husband said. 'You'll have to do some exercise.' </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I flinched, horrified. 'No, not the cross trainer,' I begged. He shook his head. I began to panic. What evil form of gym torture did he have in mind? The running machine that gets faster and steeper with every step? A combat aerobics class with size 6 supermodels? </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">'Tennis,' he announced. I smiled, relieved. I used to work at a tennis centre when I was a teenager. 'As a coach?' my husband asked, confused, when I told him.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">'No,' I snapped. 'In the kitchen.' Then I paused. 'And the dining room. Oh and the bar.' In fact I used to do every job there to earn as much extra cash as I could.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But I was rubbish at all of them. I couldn't cook, was too young to drink and had never made my bed at home so didn't have a clue about cleaning. </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Still, that didn't stop me trying, and maybe because I was so enthusiastic that's why they kept me on. One time they'd even let me wait on women's tennis legend Martina Navratilova while she was staying there.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Big mistake. I was so nervous having a VIP guest, I wobbled as I neared her and slopped soup all down her tennis whites. 'I'm so sorry,' I said, almost bursting into tears. </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I expected her to serve me up a volley of abuse. Instead she smiled, accepted my apology and left me a tip (and no, it wasn't to give up the waitressing job.) </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Anyway, getting that up, close and personal with a sports superstar gave me a lifetime love of the game. And when one of the guys there, who said he'd been on Andre Agassi's coaching team, offered to give me lessons I'd jumped at the chance.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">In between tidying the rooms, clearing tables, and mixing cocktails, I'd practised my backhand and serve. </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">'So you must be good?' my husband said. I hesitated. 'That wouldn't be the word I'd use,' I said, but he wasn't listening. He was already on the phone booking a court. </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">'It's the only way to shift that weight,' he said. The day before our match he went for a sneaky session while I dusted off my old racquet and checked I could still squeeze into a pair of shorts. </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">'Guess who was there?' he grinned, excited, when he came back. I shrugged. 'Serena Williams,' he said and my eyes widened. Of course, she was playing in Eastbourne before appearing at Wimbledon. </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">'I hope she's on centre court at Devonshire Park tomorrow,' I panicked. I didn't want the world champion watching me at the gym. Luckily, she was playing, so I could humiliate myself in peace, missing shot after shot, and smashing the ball into the net. </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I survived the hour, and hobbled off court, sweating. 'Meet you in the club bar after a shower,' my husband said, and when I turned up he'd ordered chips and a glass of wine for us both. 'I think you deserve it,' he said. 'That was the best laugh I've had in ages.' </span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I grinned, happy to have made him happy. 'Same time, same court next week?' I suggested. Playing tennis as part of a diet – it's ace! </span></span></div><br />
</div>About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3675396871022354702.post-29385970336500429272011-06-15T01:03:00.000-07:002011-06-15T01:03:16.619-07:00Doubly Beautiful!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn't have enough fingers to count exactly what I'd have done. 'A nose job, a tummy tuck, liposuction on my chin and love handles...'I muttered out loud, imagining myself standing in front of a plastic surgeon instead of the mirror. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My husband started laughing, then peered at my face. 'Don't forget laser treatment for your moustache,' he said. I glared at him before examining my face even closer.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'I don't have anything on my top lip,' I flounced. I even looked under one of those scary mirrors that magnifies everything so a pore looks as big as a town. I couldn't see any hairs on my face, no matter how much I stared. But he'd made me paranoid so when I next went to the beauticians to get my leg waxed, I asked her to do my 'tache too.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'I was only joking,' my husband said when I came back from the salon with a bright scarlet top lip where she'd ripped off my skin along with the solitary tiny blonde hair. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Too late, I'll need my top lip waxed forever now or the hair follicles will grow back thick, black and more bristly than Borat's. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Don't say anything else about my looks,' I told my hubby. 'Or our children's.' He'd already jinxed our son. 'I want him to have your double chin,' he'd announced when I was pregnant. 'It's so cute.' </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back then I'd thought it was a ridiculous thing to ask for. I'd spent all my life trying to hide mine with scarves or my hand. I didn't want to see my firstborn with that embarrassing cushion of chin fat. Too bad. The double-chin fairy was obviously listening because my son came out sporting one. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'That's your fault,' I'd scalded my husband but he was delighted and was already tickling our baby's chubby chin to make him laugh.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Our daughter is not going to have one,' I said when I was expecting our little girl. I didn't want her to look anything like me with my fat face, boxer's nose, pot belly and bunions! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And at first, she looked exactly like my husband with olive skin and jet black hair. But as she grew, her hair turned blonde, became curly and she became a mini me. One day I woke up and there was the distinct hint of, yes you've guessed it, a double chin. 'Where did that come from?' I wailed, but the answer was staring me in the face. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Doesn't she look like you?' everyone says when they see us. And she does, but magically, it's all been enhanced. She's like an airbrushed version of me – with only a small extra chin, glossy hair where mine is frizzy, a small button nose while mine is lopsided, and flawless, peachy skin while mine resembles strawberries. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I felt guilty that there weren't many pictures of her around the house. We took snaps of everything our son did, but were too busy juggling two to have the camera out to capture her every movement. 'I've arranged a photography session,' I announced the other week. 'He's going to take your pictures.' </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My little girl is only three so I thought she might refuse to sit still or demand chocolate or Peppa Pig half way through the session. But she was the perfect Diva, pouting and striking pose after pose. 'Gorgeous,' the photographer kept telling her but I thought he was only saying that because I was paying him. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Still, I was impressed when I saw the pictures. She looked angelic. And it wasn't just me who thought so. A few days later the photographer rang up to ask permission to put my daughter's picture in his window. Of course, I agreed and yesterday a magazine publisher called from London. 'Can we use your daughter's photo on our cover?' he asked. I didn't hesitate to say yes. An extra chin – that just makes her doubly beautiful! </span><br />
</div>About me...http://www.blogger.com/profile/13465166592852813046noreply@blogger.com0