Seven Top Tips to the Perfect Christmas Pavlova

Once upon a time when I wanted inspiration for what to cook I would open one of my cookbooks and look inside. Now I tend to turn to Pinterest where I found this amazing looking object and pinned it. I am, like many others I suppose, somewhat guilty of pinning and never making but this time I was committed to giving this a try.

Now where I'm from Pavlova is a traditional thing, usually made in a disk, I've never seen it with a hole in the middle. In our family one of our Christmas traditions is to have a small pudding, often a Legacy one, or from the local CWA shop (equivalent to the WI). Australian puddings are different a little to here, cooked in a calico cloth, and boiled rather than steamed. Alongside this we serve a cold dessert.

We had our extended famiy from my husband's side over this weekend and I decided to cook this amazing confection for dessert. Here are the step by step pictures.

Here are my additional tips for the perfect pavlova.

1. Know your oven. Pavlovas like a steady low heat, there are several methods my preferred one is the overnight method, heat your oven to 250 degrees whilst you make your pavlova, turn the oven off then leave it overnight.

2. Go electric. I am fortunate to have a Kitchenaid stand mixer, I used to have a Kenwood which was just as good. You can use a hand held electric beater with good effect, as long as you have a nice big bowl. Don't be tempted to try a handwhisk. I am sure it can be done, but its probably best to make something else!

3. Allow plenty of time. Whatever oven method you use the pavlova must cool in the oven, you will stress it out and make it cry if you move it when hot (seriously it will weep). If you need a dessert in a hurry, make something else.

4. Beat well after addition of sugar. You must add the sugar slowly and beat well after each addition. If you don't the crystals of sugar will remain large and will contribute to weeping, as they will melt as the pavlova cools.

5. Cracking is normal Some cracking is inevitable. That's why pavlovas are covered in cream and fruit!

6. Pavlovas are soft and marshmallowey in the middle A lot of cooks cook the pavlova so its like a French Meringue, but a soft squidgy interior is, in my opinion, the desired result.

7. Don't add flavouring to the pavlova mix With many things I experiment with Pavlova I am a purist. No greated chocolate, no nuts, no nothing in the actual meringue mix. Go crazy with toppings and the cream filling if you wish.

As its included in the original recipe I didn't include it as a tip, but it is essential your eggs are at room temperature. Fridge cold eggs will not get enough volume and your pavlova won't be successful. 

The pavlova following this recipe came out perfectly. I think the wreath formation encouraged more even cooking, and I was very impressed with the result, as were the guests. And everyone cleared their plates.

I hope this has encouraged you to try something different this Christmas. 

On Coming Out

I was 19. I was busy with boys, after not having a boyfriend up until the age of 18 I was starting to date and explore the world. A good friend of mine who I had known for three years asked me out one day. We had a lovely date, and he held my hand. We went for a walk in the evening light to the park and he kissed me. It was weird. There was no real chemistry between us, our friendship was a good one but there was nothing else there, I thought.

As we sat on a park bench he started talking about his hopes for us. Marriage, good jobs, having children, growing old together, I was like "woah woah woah". This was totally strange, 0-60 in 20 seconds, he'd never really shown interest in me romantically. Anyway, he kissed me goodnight and went home. A couple of days later he came around to my parents house.

"I have something I need to tell you", he said. "It's not you, it's me". I looked at him, his face red, tears in his eyes. "I do really like you, but um....." He paused, "I like boys more".

I smiled and hugged him. I wished him well, I asked about what was happening. He had met a boy but wanted to see if he could make himself be straight. Thankfully he was quick in realising that he had to follow his heart, it could have been a lot worse.

This occasion was the second time this had happened to me, there were was one more occasion too. Young men in Tasmania felt pressured to be something other than who they were. 

You see in the early 1990's in Tasmania being gay was illegal. I remember the rhetoric well. "It isn't illegal to be gay, just anal sex is illegal". "You can be gay, just don't sleep with anyone".

Fortunately law reform happened after much blood, sweat and tears.

When the news about Tom Daley was released yesterday I felt overwhelming sadness that sexual preference is still seen by many as a very. big. deal. I was heartened that a lot of people said "who cares as long as he's happy".

I wish we lived in a world where "coming out" wasn't necessary, that everyone was free to discover their sexuality. Where sports stars felt free to just be themselves. I fear the reaction from the press in this country will impede others from living their lives true to themselves. We are yet to see a Premiership footballer "come out", stigma still looms.

This post from Simon Blake of Brook Charity is a brilliant one and I suggest you read it. 

I hope social media continues to help enable all of us to express ourselves and tell the world about our true selves. And I hope we are ready to support one another and make this easier.

On My New Beading Obsession

This year has been one of learning, and one of the big things I have learnt is the art of self care. I found myself with a large amount of annual leave to take so have got this week off. I wanted to do something positive for myself that was cheap, fun, and engaging. 

I love crafts. I used to do a lot, folk art painting, embroidery, crazy patchwork, beading. Over the years my wrists have got quite weak, and I find a lot of crafts quite hard to do now. I thought I'd give Hama beads a try, after seeing my friend Merry's pinterest boards. You can purchase bead supplies directly from her too.

I wasn't sure how I'd get on with them, so I started with a £5 pot from IKEA, these have proven to be quite good, and have now done an order with Craft Merrily as the Hama melt better, and are of a better quality, but the IKEA ones were great to practice with.

I'm going to visit my best friend Daniel soon and not one to go empty handed, wanted to take some presents. I'd normally bake or make chocolates, but Daniel is on a soft diet and has turned his nose up at my suggestions of white chocolate and cranberry shakes or carrot and ginger soup! Daniel is a geek and wanted some geeky decorations for Christmas to balance out the hideous singing decorations his mum and nurse love!

I started out with Pacman

 

These were nice and easy and I found some great patterns on Pinterest. 

Next I tackled the Avengers.

 

One of Daniel's favourite programs of all time is The Big Bang Theory so I thought I'd make him Sheldon.

But then Sheldon looked awfully lonely. There were patterns for Penny, Howard and Raj so I made them, but Sheldon needs Amy, so I had a play and came up with my own design. Then a Twitter friend quite rightly pointed out there needed to be a Bernadette so again I had a play and designed her too!

Finally, not to be left out I made myself a little series too.

 

I've made all these over the space of two days, they are a great activity to do on your own or with little people. I've really enjoyed it and have collected loads of ideas on my Pinterest board. 

I hope I've inspired you to give it a try!

On Having Purple Hair

I am very conservative with my hair. Actually all of my appearance really. I like to blend in , not stand out. I really wanted to do something fun for World Prematurity Day which was a couple of weeks ago now, so I decided to dye my hair purple.

 

It was a big commitment as I had to go blonde first for the purple to take. I still haven't really decided what I'm going to do long term and I really miss my boring brown hair!

What's been interesting is people's reactions. I like to blend in, not stand out. People have treated me really differently. Strangers, especially men, talk to me, asking me how I got my hair so bright, and interested in me as a person too. Really odd.

Some people have ignored me, old ladies in particular, and also the Somalian families in the playground. Something worth remembering as I want to travel to Ghana next year and will need to be a bit more sedate for that, I feel.

Being different isn't a bad thing, of course it's great in lots of ways, but it has been a big adjustment and I'm still not sure I like it. 

I think I've decided to get it cut into a bob then have the colour corrected, but I'm not ready yet, I'm enjoying life as an indie rock chick with purple hair!

This year has been one of huge change, and self realisation. Therapy has been the making of me, and I have new confidence and self assuredness. There is a way to go yet, but I feel I am making progress to becoming the me I want to be.

 

The Thing about Mental Health

We think. We reason. We emote. We believe. We hope. We dream. We fantasise. We relate. We talk. We listen.

All of these things we do with our minds.

The thing about mental health, having a healthy mind is we never really think about it. About our mental health.

We might think about our physical health, and take vitamins, exercise, concentrate on our diet, see a doctor if things are not right.

But the thing about our mental health is that we really don't think about it.

Until it's going. Or gone.

We can't reason. Our fantasies are blurred with reality. We can't sleep. We have nightmares. We have panic attacks. We just cannot stop crying. We are happy one minute in the depths of despair the next. Sometimes we feel we cannot go on.

Sometimes we can't. Sometimes we hurt ourselves. Rarely we hurt others, not directly.

Sorting out our mental health isn't easy. Trial and error. Medication. Self care. Talking therapy. More.

Maybe we could prevent mental health problems if we could just talk.

But there is stigma.

There are stupid people out there who do not understand that like cancer is cells gone mad, mental health problems are chemicals misfiring, pathways disturbed.

Mental health problems are not the fault of the sufferer.

Mental health problems rarely make someone dangerous to others.

Mental health problems hurt. Such deep pain that is often unfathomable. Patterns of behaviour develop that can take years to correct. Or might never be corrected.

Care, love, support, true friendship, this is what can ease a mental health problem.

Talk about it.

It's time to talk

The End and The Beginning - Therapy

In October 2012 I told the world that I had been sexually abused as a child. It was a huge decision to make, and I chose to blog about it in the post Jimmy Savile is Dead. 

Several people helped me in writing and forming the post, most notably Daniel, at the time a close friend, now my best friend. 

I made mistakes. The abuser told me my parents knew but didn't care. They didn't. Know, that is. At all. I blogged about it before discussing it with them. This was clearly a huge error on my part, I should have talked to them first.

After the publication of the post it was clear I needed help and found Jo a person centred counsellor. The sessions were great and really helped me, they ended when I left my job, just after Christmas. I thought I was better but then Easter came and my world fell apart.

I started having intrusive thoughts, thoughts of suicide, I started thinking about how I would do it, wondering who would take care of Joseph and my husband but convinced that it all had become too much and I would never get better. I was bereft.

I went to my GP who missed how poorly I was and told me to arrange something privately. I wasn't thinking straight and it was very hard to do. After a false start I found my psychologist.

At first the sessions were just "getting to know you" and unpicking what had happened. And then we started getting deeper into my past. I started to feel like crap. Then Britmums came and I read Jimmy Savile is Dead to a full room of hundreds of people. I had my photo shoot with Yuri at Urbanvox which was amazing, but the crash came. I couldn't stop crying it had all been too much. I felt exposed, frightened and overwhelmed.

Therapy commenced again and I worked hard. My therapist had recommended a book called Breaking Free  which I started working through bit by bit. It was hard, but it really helped me realise a few key points.

* My abuser sought me out to abuse. I didn't make him do it. He had the desire to abuse before he met me. There was nothing wrong with me, it was not my fault.

* I was vulnerable, I was a child, I had no friends when I was 3 because I hadn't formed friendships yet. My mum and dad worked hard, he had opportunity to seek me out.

* At school I had learned to cover up the signs to some extent, but that there were some that should have been picked up, the fact that they weren't wasn't my fault.

* The abuse made me perceive some things that happened at high school in particular incorrectly. Whilst I was bullied to an extent, I over reacted and some of it was just normal boyish behaviour that I perceived as threatening. This wasn't my fault either.

* That sex is something I became proficient at because it was protection, and that love and friendship scare me, as I dont really understand them correctly, and this will take time to fix.

* That pleasure of all kinds is frightening, and feels risky and scary, and this will also take time to fix. I am starting by doing small things like baking, or walking with Joseph in the autumn leaves.

My therapist felt that I was ready to leave after 13 sessions. I can go back if I need to, but I am hoping it won't be necessary.

It feels strange, it being over. I am missing my sessions, talking to someone completely outside my life who can be objective. I found the sessions enjoyable towards the end.

It will never be over for me. I will always feel sad, scared and regretful. But I am stronger now, I realise a lot of the patterns, thoughts and feelings I have had were wrong or unhelpful. I can put these right slowly but surely.

You Are Worthless

Today is World Suicide Prevention Day. I have blogged on my other space Not Even A Bag of Sugar .

This post is deeply personal and a hard one to write. Please approach with caution as it may trigger thoughts of your own. There are lots of sources of support, your GP, health professionals, Mind Charity, The Samaritans. If you feel low, get help. Don't suffer in silence.

There is a voice in my head. Sometimes it sounds like my mother, sometimes like him, sometimes its my own voice, or a teacher. Sometimes I can't even tell who it is. At times its a chorus.

Sometimes it whispers, I have to listen very carefully. Sometimes it shouts. At times its not even words, its a just a noise in my head like a boiler on the blink or a fridge that is a bit too old.

I've lived with this relentless voice since I was 3. It told me always to sleep with my face covered. It told me I had to sleep with a teddy bear. It told me never ever to sleep with my bottom uncovered. I always wore pants to bed. I still do. I still sleep with a bear. If I don't bad things will happen.

The voice is accusatory. "You think you can get through this do you? You think you are better than M or C or F? They are not here anymore I beat them. I will beat you too, just you see."

I hear of a mother committing suicide, severe PND and the voice comes in, "she couldn't get through it, your past is much more tortured than hers you can't get through it either, just do everyone a favour, do the decent thing".

I live with this voice. Not every day, it peaks and troughs.

It reached a crescendo at Easter. It yelled at me every day. I got to the end. It told me I was a rubbish wife, a crap mother, that I was dragging everyone down with me, including my best friend. It told me enough was enough. I had reached the end.

I finally confided in my husband, my friend and my friend's mother. I finally broke down to my GP and begged for help. It was bloody hard. NHS wouldn't fund, and I had to find sources of funding myself. The voice loved that "No one wants to help you, you can't do this"

I found a therapist.

It took me 7 weeks but I finally told my therapist. "I hear voices".

He said "yes, as a survivor of abuse that's normal".

Oh.

He then said "you choose, you can either engage with them, or you can dismiss them. They have nothing of value to say."

Oh.

They have nothing of value to say.

Oh.

"Voice, shut up, you have nothing of value to say and I don't need to listen to this. Go away".

It sounds simple.

It isn't. It's like standing up to a bully, an abuser. It takes strength and courage.

But that doesn't need to come from me. It comes from my husband, my son, my best friend, my other friends, my beautiful blogging community.

I don't have to do this alone.

And neither do you.

You are not alone.