Boqueria Market, Barcelona

One of the most colourful produce markets I have ever been to. It felt like being in the middle of a painting. All we tried from here was a peach. If you look closely at the third or fourth photo, you'll see the type I mean. They looked so good, we bought one, stood in the corner and shared it. When I look at the photos though, I wonder how we didn't get more carried away.

Help - The Beginning

I can't believe I haven't written for so long. I certainly do have things to write about. I went back into my old posts and saw some drafts, things I had written but had never gotten around to editing or publishing. I realised that to write about what I would like to fill you in on next, this old post would have to be published, just to give you some background. I had to laugh when I read this again, there was a time when I was so clueless. Hard to imagine, two years on and I see myself as a seasoned professional. It is long but hopefully entertaining and an eye opener in a city where hired help is a part of daily life. The saga takes place within the compound I live in in Riyadh, a guarded community where expats can imitate life at home as far as that is possible. This was written in about February last year, the beginning of our posting here, we are now already nearing the end.

It all started when Husband informed me that a housekeeper is nothing to raise an eyebrow at here. There are many women making a living this way in Saudi Arabia and many more people making use of their services. You can just imagine how excited I was. Except for stuff to do with the kitchen, I HATE cleaning. I thought everybody did, but not so, there are some women, some good friends of mine even, who love it. They find it therapeutic and rewarding. I on the other hand turn into a resentful beast when I have to clean. There have been times when after a hard day scrubbing, dusting and tidying, I've sat down in front of the computer to write Husband a strongly worded email about his domestic habits.

I am clearly a danger to myself and to others when I have to clean and therefore shouldn't be doing it at all. What I didn't realise is that finding good help is not easy and I am fast discovering that I am almost as bad at finding someone, as I am at the actual cleaning.

It all started with Daisy. Daisy was recommended to us by her cousin and was supposed to come over and take a look at the house to see if she could help us out with a bit of cleaning. The arranged day came and the doorbell did not ring. We arranged a second appointment. Two hours later than scheduled, I answered the door and there was a lady who introduced herself as Sally. Sally also worked at the DVD store but seemed somehow to have the time to help me out around the house for a few hours a week. Naturally, I asked her why her name wasn't Daisy but she didn't seem to know what I was talking about and since someone finally showed up, be it Sally or Daisy or Bill I was happy to share the chores. Sally, seemed nice. Her English was good, she looked the house over and offered to start in a few days. She also told me she was married to the guy who fixes the air-conditioning, so if I had problems I could just call her. Things were looking up.

Sally's first day arrived. I hovered around the door, waiting for the doorbell to ring. It didn't. In my excitement I had totally forgotten to take Sally's number so I couldn't call her to find out if she'd had some sort of mishap on the way to my place. It was around mid-afternoon when I happened to stroll past my front door and find a note in it. The note read:

'Sorry Madam, I am not feeling well today. I cannot come.'

And that was it. No future appointment or phone number. I never saw her again. I wasn't exactly going to stalk her at the DVD store, so I continued with the household alone.

One morning Husband rang me from work and told me to go and ring the doorbell of a nearby home. Colleagues were sharing there and were very happy with their housekeeper. I should just ring the doorbell and introduce myself to Mercy, he said. I rang the doorbell, no answer. I decided to try again, ringing the doorbell persistently. I circled the back and saw that the terrace had been freshly washed, I went back to ringing the doorbell, determined to meet Mercy. No such luck. Answering the door was clearly not part of her job description.

I went back home a little wearier than before, wondering how on earth I was going to find someone and then the telephone rang. It was a lady I had just met on the compound. She had a full-time house keeper, Violet, who had a cousin Ruby, who would be happy to help me out. I arranged a time to meet Ruby, a little less trusting this time that anyone would turn up at all. When the doorbell rang on the arranged day at the arranged time, it was difficult not to get just a little bit excited. I opened the door and there she was. She looked serious. We discussed money and what she would do. She was eager. Could she start now? Yes, she could. She had a few hours before her next job. Wonderful. Pretty soon, she was busying herself around the house making my attempt at house cleaning look pretty miserable.

Ruby came twice a week after that. She wasn't always on time, once she promised a morning time and sauntered in early afternoon. Her explanation? 'I'm just late Madam.' Hmmm... Ok. I accepted. It's not like I had any pressing engagements. She helped with  unpacking our shipment which had just arrived, with preparing the baby's things, she vacuumed very well and then... she asked for taxi money. If my pregnant self remembers correctly, this was on her third visit. Now, just think a minute about how fresh and new I am to all this. The request didn't sound right, but how was I to know? Perhaps transportation was part of the fee? The crazy thing was, the taxi money was more than her hourly rate. She was so bold in the way she asked I thought that maybe it was the done thing. So what did I do? I gave it to her.

It was around this time that I started venturing out more. Like I mentioned in my previous post, there were many new women to meet and I decided, with the house in good hands that I would go out and try to make a friend or two. That was fun and terribly informative. After a few questions, my uncertainty was proven correct. Not only was Ruby charging me more than others charged as an hourly rate, the taxi money was unheard of. People gasped when I mentioned what I was paying weekly.

This is probably a good time to explain that housekeepers do not cost a fortune here. That is how I tried to justify things to myself for a while but then I realised, this really isn't about the money. It is the feeling of being cheated. I was being taken advantage of. I talked to more ladies over lunch. The general consensus seemed to be to find someone new. It would be too strange, everyone agreed, to renegotiate her rate with her now. Then one of the ladies told a story about trying not to upset the housekeeper, as they might take revenge. She had recently found an expensive sweater folded ever so neatly in her wardrobe - burnt!

So, heeding advice, and not wanting to be taken for a fool anymore, I went about trying to find someone new. The new lady turned up on the same day I made the enquiry, promising to clean my house just as she cleans hers. I had made up my mind. Eventually, I made the call to Ruby. I explained myself clearly, I was finding her too expensive. She didn't argue. I thanked her for her work but told her I would need to find someone else. It was a short call but I made myself clear.

A few hours later the lady who had recommended Ruby to me rang. She sounded alarmed and wanted to know if anything had happened. What had gone wrong, why didn't I want Ruby anymore? I explained to her that she was too expensive, that I wasn't willing to pay taxi money. She asked if I would be willing to take Ruby back if I didn't have to pay for her taxi. But that was just confirmation for me that she was wrong to have asked for it in the first place.

I didn't take Ruby back, I would have felt too awkward.

It was at lunch a few days later that the phone rang and Ruby's familiar name came up on my phone. I answered without hesitation, not really sure what to expect.  Ruby was mad and this time she had a thing or two to say to me. She started off very nicely, How is Madam? She wanted to know. Was everything OK? Was I happy with her work? Did she steal anything from me? Had she done anything bad? Clearly, she was not over it.  Now, I didn't want to be having this discussion. It would have been a fruitless argument of her word against mine. I somehow ended the conversation with the clear message that she was not to call me again. There was nothing else for us to discuss. All the while though, I have to say, I was impressed with this lady's feistiness. She is definitely in the wrong line of work. Nobody wants an aggressive housekeeper, otherwise I would have hired myself.

Meanwhile, the new lady is OK. At first, because in some bizarre way, I missed Ruby, I noticed all the things that the new lady didn't do or did differently. But, now, I have become used to her. She comes on time and works hard. I do have a feeling that she broke the toilet seat, it was just the two of us at home and only her in said bathroom. Who else could it have been?  Maybe she stood on it to clean the windows? I suggested. But no. She was certain. It wasn't her. I won't worry too much about that though as long as my floors are shiny, I'm in this relationship for the long haul.

Camels in a ute

Literally. Just one of the many interesting sights you might see, driving the streets of Riyadh on the weekend.

Barefoot and baking

That's right people. This is what I have been up to this last few weeks of freedom, before the little one arrives and then who knows what I will have time to do? I am sure baking will be the last of my priorities. When I am not lunching, it's quite possible that I am organising brunch at my place or whipping up something to take over when we are visiting others. So, what I would like to share with you are three of the favourites that are getting used many times over just because they are so simple to do and well liked by most. I don't really have the enthusiasm to slave over detailed recipes at the moment, plus my hand mixer broke just before I left Germany, so I am only doing things that involve a wooden spoon or a whisk at most.

Thanks to Orangette this cake is the one I have baked the most since arriving in Riyadh, at one point I had made two in one week. I like all things lemony and I also find this type of baking good in warm weather when I don't really feel like anything too rich. Most people have really enjoyed it, except for one kid who made a face after trying the lemon glaze on top, clearly too sour, so consider that if you have kids amongst your consumers. Most grown-ups love the tang though.

These brownies are just as simple but goes against what I just stated about citrus flavours and warm weather. This recipe from David Lebovitz's website is, for those like me in Riyadh, are for when you are entertaining with the airconditioning on. They are seriously rich but good. Good is understating it a little. making the Dulce de Leche doesn't really put me off because I just put a can of sweetened condensed milk into a large pot of water and boil for three hours. I check on it from time to time to make sure there is plenty of water in the pot and despite stories of explosions I haven't had any incidents at all. I get lovely caramel every time and you can also boil a few cans at a time and store them in the fridge. And then there are these also from David Lebovitz and this time easy would be understating it a little. This recipe is so simple, you pretty much just throw everything into a blender and the best part of all is to see the way they rise. For so little effort there is really provide a lot of satisfaction. They taste like donuts but they are not fried. What a discovery! Thank goodness for creative recipes like these. I hope you enjoy them even if you are not in your ninth month of pregnancy, a wee bit of simple, comfort baking never hurt anyone.

Ladies Who Lunch or Fitting In

A lady who lunches. As most retail outlets close between 12pm and 4pm and most food outlets remain open, this is what I guess I will become. I accept my fate willingly. I like lunch. But first, one must have ladies with whom to lunch. Being new in town, it is up to me to go about finding these ladies and so far, the process has been rewarding. Firstly, there seem to be plenty of ladies around and luckily there are plenty of events organised in order to come into contact with them. One of these organised events are 'coffee mornings'. Usually held at the compound restaurant, this is a chance to find out who's new and catch up with the old. Sometimes, there are goods being sold at these events, giving the ladies an opportunity to spend. Another organised activity is the  'shopping bus'. The bus leave twice daily from my compound, providing yet another opportunity to spend but also giving women a chance to shop independently of their husbands and to visit a different mall everyday of the week. Of course, it is possible to get around with a driver but these shopping busses are well planned, in between prayer time and this make sense, seeing as everything shuts down for a good half hour during prayer time. There are many activities to get involved in. Cooking classes, reading clubs, sports and craft style activities are advertised constantly on a TV channel dedicated to telling people what's on. What I find that I am liking, is being presented with opportunities to do new things. I didn't do so many new things in Ulm so I didn't really know this about myself. A couple of days ago, I got together with a bunch of ladies and made my own beaded keyring.  Something I probably would never have thought to do on my own, but it was fun to be creative, to meet new people and led to me signing up for future crafty events. One of which involves ceramics and what did I tell you? Lunch. I tried not to make my keyring too girly, as I intended it as a gift for Husband, but it remains attached to my keys. Oh well.

The pressure is on to look good in Riyadh, which might surprise some of you, because women are cloaked in an abaya and headscarf when in public. This puts a whole lot of emphasis on the parts that people can see. The sizing up of who you are, lies in the type abaya, shoes, handbag and sunglasses you wear. The abaya is something I am clueless about but locals  are discerning. As an example, my current abaya cost about 150 SAR which is about 30 Euro. I have seen abayas that cost 2000 SAR (about 390 Euro) and have been told about ones that cost 6000 SAR (about 1,168 Euro) so, I guess the sky is the limit. I spoke to a lady the other day who confessed to wearing more make up here in Riyadh then she ever did at home. Somehow, covering your hair and clothes can leave your face feeling strangely exposed. There is an urge to make this one part of you that people can see clearly, look its best. When people can't be distracted from that huge pimple by that funky hairdo you are sporting, concealer becomes your best friend. I too must confess to regular manicures and pedicures since arriving. God forbid you step out in open footwear with an unpumiced heel or less than polished toenails. 
Fortunately for me, I (think) I can tick off the handbag box. Husband (ain't he sweet?) bought me one that should score some points (I hope) on the Saudi scene. I am however, still rebelling with the shoes and the sunglasses. I know that the 10 Euro H&M slip-ons are not going to cut it for long nor will the two pound fifty Primark sunglasses but I will hold out for as long as I can. 

Which probably won't be for very long  at all. Sigh.  The changes one must make to assimilate. What I am hoping, is that I will get lucky and won't have to pay full price for what I am quite sure will become a habit. My justification? Well, I have noticed designer goods are heavily discounted here when new season stuff comes in AND seeing as clothes remain hidden under the abaya, technically I don't really need to shop for clothes for the next two years. Right?

Some excellent news!

I am pregnant. I am not sure if I have advertised that already somewhere here in another post. I am really not sure, as things have been so hectic of late. But now is the time to tell you all, I AM PREGNANT. This is by the way, not new news. I am about 33 weeks, well into my 8th month. This means people, that the baby is due next month. I realised that today, when I went to visit my doctor. It's the first time I am meeting the doctor whom I will be seeing regularly till the end of my pregnancy. Till the little fella is out here in the real world, which is, as mentioned previously - some time at the end of next month. According to this new doctor, lovely lady she was, it could be anywhere between the 25th and the 29th. Let's hope it's not on the 27th as she will be on a conference outside the Kingdom, she thinks. She isn't quite sure yet. The Kingdom, that is how people refer to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia here. Like the following, which you may receive as a friendly tip from a fellow expat when grocery shopping, 'Make sure you stock up on Oatabix, there are times when you can't find a box in the whole Kingdom.' A common problem here it seems. I was sure to buy two boxes the last time I was at the supermarket. Back to the point though, and the point is that I AM PREGNANT. There is a pregnant belly to prove it and a room full of baby furniture. I am all organised, things are prepared for his arrival. I have even got a pram, possibly the only one of its kind in the Kingdom. Gosh only knows we searched long and hard for it. Did I mention that the baby will be a boy? Reconfirmed again today by ultrasound, there can be no doubts now. I am hoping that writing it out in capital letters for you all today will help me to get used to the idea that indeed I AM PREGNANT. I am 8 months along and it still hasn't sunk in.

When I wake up to go to the toilet in the middle of the night (something I never needed to do without child) I find myself thinking in my blur of half asleep thoughts, Oh! That's right, I'm pregnant. That can't be right can it? Surely, I need to be a little bit more in touch with this whole experience? How will I deal with him when he gets here? I have no idea, and that is the scariest thing EVER. But the good thing is, my mum is coming. My mum, the woman who never owned a pram (with 3 kids!), who keeps asking me if I am in my sixth month and who tells me everything can be over in just a few minutes with a C-section, but crazily enough, I'd like to put myself through the torture of a natural birth. Yes, she will be here as chief support and I am really looking forward to it. I can imagine there will be moments when the two of us look at each other wondering, Right, what do we do now? and that will make me feel so much better. If, as they say, every baby is different, then surely there can be no expert on them. Luckily for me, my mum is not at all a know it all and that is great for me because I will end up feeling like I know a thing or two after all.

I know that I have lots of new news at the moment, I mean I have just moved to Riyadh and sure there is plenty to write about that too but I really wanted to get this pregnancy thing out of the way first. The other thing that has been bothering me is that I am not at all the way I thought I would be. I expected myself to be all 'earth motherish' you know? No to disposable nappies, yes to breastfeeding, no to epidurals and so on and so forth. But I am SO NOT! I find the less informed I am the better. One of my main botherations, and this may sound childish so please hold your judgement for a moment, is why they can't print pregnancy books without any pictures. I do not, repeat DO NOT at all feel inspired looking at other women in the throes of labour. I mean, we already know it ain't gonna be glamourous. Do we need the graphic confirmation? It just makes a nervous first time mother even more nervous if you ask me. I received a parcel in the mail the other day. That was exciting, my first parcel in Riyadh. A dear friend, who just had a gorgeous baby boy of her own sent me a book about breastfeeding. Don't even get me started on the pictures in that! Let's just say for some one who was pretty open minded about the whole procedure, I am now starting to wonder if I should get the whole thing over and done with in the first 6 months. It sounds terrible I know, and I shock myself with these unnurturing thoughts, but this is really what I am thinking. Perhaps, what I should be doing is avoiding books all together. I am such a visual person that images tend to stay in my head and haunt me, forever. On that note, I hope you haven't found the ones I have included here too offensive.

But of course, there is joy and excitement. We can't wait for him to arrive and change our lives FOREVER. I cannot tell you how many people have said that to me in the course of 9 months. Make sure you live it up now because when that baby arrives, it all changes. Things are NEVER the same again. You will NEVER get your time back. Your life will NEVER be the same etc etc. Not the most reassuring thing to say to a first timer is it? Please remember this when you are giving advice mums. This sort of thing leaves me wondering what on earth I have gotten myself into. The good thing is, since I am bursting to find out, I won't have to wait and wonder for long. My curiosity will be satisfied first hand in just over a month. Then I will be able to tell you myself, with first hand experience what, if anything, will EVER be the same again.

Craving

A burger. Most especially a cheese burger with bacon from GBK, a hamburger chain in the UK. An order of their chips with smoked chilli mayo and an Oreo shake. Why do I torture myself like this?

Moving

I received my visa the other day without any complications. We heard many horror stories from others but things have worked out well for us. Up till now anyway. We are hoping to be in Riyadh by the beginning of next month, wish us luck! I'm glad that Husband isn't here at the moment, he loves to hoard and I love to throw. I can leisurely sort through stuff without him yelling, 'No!' every time something goes into a garbage bag. Let the packing begin!

Eat, eat, eat

I am back in Ulm after almost a month in Sydney. How hard it was to tear myself away from the blue skies and ocean and come back to the snowy whiteness of Ulm. It is pretty here though, just freezing and a high risk of slipping when you venture outside for a walk but lovely nevertheless. Christmas in Sydney was warm and full of food. In fact eating is pretty much all we did and I am not sad about that. Food is such an important part of holidays for me and there were so many Sydney specialities that I had been craving, I didn't even attempt self control. It was an eatathon without exaggeration, the type of eat fest that leaves you quite satisfied that no stone was left unturned, no craving unmet, for after all, who knows when I will visit again? It was with this mindset that we began our break and with lobster in XO sauce that we ended. Yum.

If I cast my mind back, I can offer you an overview of all this consumption. We started the trip with a family gathering where very delicious smoked salmon was served, that was a highlight. We went out for fancy Indian food. Then there was Hong Kong style crab in Ashfield. There was a sushi train making the rounds somewhere in there, the food I miss most in Ulm. An amazing meal and I am talking great here, at Restaurant Balzac. Prawns kept popping up everywhere, which isn't unusual during summer in Sydney. Mangoes. Avocados. Asparagus on the BBQ. Pink MOET on my birthday. Ho mok, ho mok, ho mok! I only ate it once but trust me, it deserves three mentions.

But it wasn't all just thoughtless gorging, there were some more meaningful moments too. Meaningful eating moments that is. My sister treated our family to lunch at the restaurant where Husband and I were married. The food didn't let us down and we were equally impressed by the service, the waiter remembered our event and we were able to reminisce on a few of the more interesting moments. Even better than that, was the panna cotta I ordered for dessert. Oh my, if only words could describe! We tend to share dessert in my family as we are all usually stuffed from the previous courses but I tried my very best not to share the panna cotta and they were, bless 'em, very understanding about it.

Then there was the icing on the cake moment, which actually was a cake. Not just any cake, but the very same raspberry and hazelnut cake that was the middle tier of our wedding cake. Baked as a gift by the very same friend just so we could enjoy a trip down memory lane. It was sliced at the thinnest and eaten like gold by my very, very appreciative family.

Are you getting hungry yet? I am.

Christmas was a time when I realised how lucky we really are to be able to indulge ourselves the way we do, flying to Sydney to be with family is in itself a luxury and I have to say that just vegemite on toast or crumpets and honey are enough to make me feel like I am in Sydney. And my wok frozen to the balcony is enough to make me feel like I am in Ulm. Welcome back. Take a look.

Avocado, wasabi and lime dip

'What's that?' is an often heard question when an unsuspecting guest comes across avocado in a salad. Strange then, to have come across this recipe in a land where unpeeled avocados can sometimes be mistaken for papayas or even mangoes.I tried this after watching a reality TV cooking show where the contestant paired it with sashimi style salmon. I just eat mine with corn chips or crackers or in a sandwich. So simple but still so full of flavour. I can't give you a recipe with exact quantities, I really think this has to be made to taste. I use one avocado and then add a little squeeze of wasabi (I use the one that comes in the tube), say about half a teaspoon, and then a squeeze or two of fresh lime juice, say about 1 tablespoon. I then mush it all up together until you have mixed the ingredients through and then have a quick taste. At this point you should perfect it according to your taste buds. More wasabi and lime until it really hits the spot, but a little at a time as wasabi can quickly become the enemy. Although, some do enjoy that nose hair burning sensation. You should consider your guests though, if you are not the only one eating. You could also add salt if you think it needs it, I usually don't. I will add a picture the next time I make this. There seems to be none left by the time I remember to take a photo.

Lime or lemon filling for lime or lemon tart

This is a short recipe for lime or lemon tart filling. It is from the Marie Claire 'Flavours' book. I find this one easy and suitably citrusy, the way I like it. I have tried other recipes, one that used condensed milk and found it way too sweet. I guess I'll have to do some experimentin' and come up with my own version, but till then...

Lime tart filling

1 cup caster sugar
4 eggs
1 cup cream
1 cup lime juice

Place the sugar, eggs, cream and lime juice in a bowl and mix to combine. Skim the top of the mixture to remove any bubbles or foam. Pour into the tart shell, place in a 160C oven and bake for 20-25 minutes or until the filling is just set. Refrigerate the tart until firm.

They also include a note that says you can replace the lime juice with lemon or blood orange juice if you so fancy. To make the tart shell, I use the sweet shortcrust pastry recipe from Nigella's 'How to be a Domestic Goddess'. Also really easy to follow and it hasn't failed me yet.

Plenty of personal growth ahead

Wow. No entries at all for the month of September. Which really has been worse for me than it has been for you. Believe me. It isn't like I haven't had anything to write about, I find sometimes strange being that I am, that I avoid Chilli Walter precisely at these times. So after a one month hiatus, I am back with some new realisations. One of them being, it doesn't matter how many times I check my own page. It is NOT going to magically update itself. So what's been going down? Well, the biggest news is that we are moving, leaving Ulm that is and going somewhere other. Not Sydney because that would be going home. Not Paris because that would just be way too perfect and of course, how can a person grow when life is just so all round perfect? One can't is the answer and obviously, I have lots of growing to do. And how does one accomplish all this growing? So that one day, when one is older, one can also guarantee (because we all know these two things don't go hand in hand) that one is wiser? Challenges, of course! Now, seriously speaking, I thought I had met and conquered challenges enough by moving to Ulm. By even entertaining the possibility that I could spend the rest of my life here. When I had accepted that, I thought I had achieved some pretty major personal growth. Clearly not. Clearly, the powers that be feel that I need to be cultivated even more. Perhaps and yes, I see things much more clearly now, I have been an ungrateful twat, living here, complaining about the fog and the lack of good Asian food. So much so that life thought, hmmm... why don't we send her to the desert? See how she finds that. And so, yes people, we are moving to Saudi Arabia, to Riyadh. Right in the middle of the desert. Yay! I can't tell you how much I am looking forward to doing it all again. Meeting new people, learning a new culture and a new language and trying to feel at home enough at least for the next two years. Husband has a new job and he is pretty excited about the whole thing and of course being the good woman that I am my first priority is to support him. Goodness knows he has always supported me in my ventures. But it is still difficult not to feel sometimes, just some occasional times, like throwing a shoe at him just because he is so chirpy about it all. I know it is important and that Husband's half full and my half empty make a very good balance but nevertheless there are times when my hands are just itching, my brain using all its powers of self-control to control that urge to throw. What am I worried about you may ask? Why not just lighten up and see what Riyadh holds for me? Yes, quite right this is the attitude I am working toward and I am sure I will get there. I am after all a highly adaptable person, I say Grüss Gott now for Pete's sake! It's just the things I have been reading I guess, and I have been doing quite a bit of reading to prepare myself for my time over there. Alcohol is banned in Saudi Arabia, and I do think this is terribly unfair as I can't imagine a quick shot of something would make the new surroundings just that teensy weensy bit more bearable. No pork either which doesn't bother me all that much really. One of the things I am obviously looking forward to is all the new food I will get to try. Foreign women must also cover up when out in public, which I have to say, strangely enough, is also on the list of things that don't bother me all that much. I mean, don't you have those days when you wish you didn't have to think of what to wear? Now, I'll be able to throw anything on and have bad hair days galore and no one will be able to tell because I will be all cloaked and veiled. Among the things that bother me is that society is totally gender segregated. I have read a bit about this but I think I won't really get the full idea of what this means till I am there and that is a wee bit scary for me. I am moving to a country that I have never visited, do normal people do stuff like this? There was an option for a weekend trip where Husband and I would get to look around and get an impression of Riyadh, but there were some issues with me obtaining a visa and we don't know if this can happen now. I think I would feel much better if I had some sort of first hand impression of where I am going to be living rather than going only with information that I have gathered from the internet. I am doing a German course at the moment though, and really enjoying all the contact I have with other foreigners trying to learn the language. There are quite a few Muslim guys in my course and it has been great talking to them about my move. When you tell a German person or any westerner that you are moving to Saudi Arabia it is almost like someone died. There is the downward glance that suggests they are very sorry to hear this most alarming news and then the quick cover up and a positive smile, 'think of all the things you will learn. How interesting!' One of my students, when I told her that I was moving to Saudi Arabia because of my husband's job, busted out with 'now that is love!' She could never do it. The guys in my class on the other hand are really excited for me. I have been able to tell them that I am pretty scared about the culture shock and they totally get it. But most of them are totally jealous of me. I am after all going to be living in the land of Mecca, where they dream of visiting at least once in their life. They keep telling me what a wonderful culture it is and how warm the people are and have already offered to help with my first Arabic words. I guess if these guys are anything to go by, I haven't got all that much to worry about.

Raspberry picking

I went raspberry picking for the first time last week!!! It felt like a holiday to be able to do this right in the middle of my working week. A friend and I decided it would be a nice idea and they were so cheap. On the way to the raspberry field, I noticed some other fruit growing in abundance at the moment. So abundant in fact, that you can find pears on the street and no one seems particularly excited by this, except for the foreigner with the camera. There are trees so full of plums they look like bunches of giant purple grapes. Everywhere you look, something seems to be growing. Here are some pictures of my mid-week holiday, the raspberries and one of the many ways they ended up being eaten.

The leaves sort of act like a shelter for the berries and you have to really crouch down and see what's hiding behind them to find the good ones.The camera shy raspberry farmer, who wasn't too shy to hand feed raspberries to young raspberry picking ladies when he wasn't being photographed.We ended up with 1 kilogram of raspberries and took home 500 grams each. They were also very delicious and I think my friend ended up eating more than made it into the punnet. They taste best when just picked. The whole experience was like a dream, raspberries being my favourite berry and all.Other than cramming them into my mouth totally fresh, I also used them to top a lemon tart.I haven't got a recipe for you, there are so many recipes for lemon tart out there or you probably already have one that you like best. My friend said she ended up baking something with her berries too, I'll try to post the pictures here so you can see where the other 500 grams ended up.

Auf dem Kreuz

Some may have noticed that I have been absent for a couple of weeks now, that is because Husband and I went on a little holiday. More on that soon but what I had wanted to share with you before I went away, is a lovely dinner we had with some friends at "Auf dem Kreuz". I ran out of time before leaving, that is why you are only reading about this now. "Auf dem Kreuz" in Ulm is one of my favourite restaurants. It is located a little bit away from the main drag, it is the only restaurant in a residential area, so some may not have heard of it. In summer time, when the weather agrees, they set up the traditional beer benches and if you get in early you can enjoy your dinner outside, admiring the beautiful old buildings that surround you.
That's exactly what we did a few weeks ago, ringing and reserving and emphasising our preference for an outside table. We got everything we requested and were excited about the food. The menu is seasonal and changes weekly, sometimes daily. There are some staples though, like "Zwiebelrostbraten" (Swabian steak with onions), but the unique thing about this place, is that it not only has Swabian specialities on the menu but also whatever the chef seems to feel like cooking. It isn't unusual to find a Thai style, glass noodle salad on the menu, for example, or Lebanese style octopus with mashed white beans, all pretty exotic for this neck of the woods. I have been to this restaurant many times over the last few years and have to say, while the dining experience is generally good, there are times when the wheels do fall off the wagon, if you know what I mean. Like the time we decided to take a big group of friends on a Saturday night and ended up waiting over an hour for our food. Or the time we went on a Friday night and it took a good half an hour to get the waitress's attention to order dessert and then, after waiting another half an hour with no sign of said dessert, we decided to cancel and leave. These two incidents did occur on very busy nights but be warned, while things can run perfectly smoothly even on a busy night, Friday and Saturday nights can leave you waiting longer than expected. Having said that, the service is friendly and they generally do their best to look after their guests. There was that time, when Husband ordered rose instead of red wine and didn't notice his mistake when she presented the wine to us. He only noticed something untoward when she poured the wine in his glass to taste, and rather than rich red, he got pale pink. She very graciously changed the bottle for us without charge, even though the fault was ours. On the particular Tuesday night that we visited, all elements came together very nicely, that is to say, no wheels falling off any wagons, resulting in an extremely pleasant dining experience. We ate, drank and very merrily enjoyed the warm, summer evening.
Not that I wasn't enjoying the company of our friends, but I have to admit to eavesdropping on a conversation at a nearby table. I heard English and an Australian accent and that always gets me curious but our friends were talking too loudly and I wasn't really able to pick up on who she was and what she was doing in Ulm. Nevertheless, she was lucky to have such foodie friends that would take her to "Auf dem Kreuz" for dinner. I think, I have taken almost everyone who has visited me in Ulm here to eat. If I haven't been with you, it is because I hadn't discovered it myself yet or because they were closed (they are not open on Sunday night or Monday night, are only open for dinner and take an extended break over Christmas). On the night we went, our friends ordered the very Swabian dish of lentils with "Spätzle" (Swabian noodles). This dish is also served with a Wiener sausage and a big ol' slab of smoked pork belly.

Husband ordered the lamb cutlets with chanterelles, served with delicious looking roast potatoes that I didn't try because I was busy tucking into my lamb curry.
Yes, that's right, I ordered the curry. This is probably the only restaurant in Ulm, the Indian ones included, where I order the curry without fear. It was well spiced, easy on the chilli and very satisfying. I was also impressed by the raita that came with it.

There are some I have spoken to around these parts who find "Auf dem Kreuz" snobby, this is something I don't really understand (if you have eaten here, let me know how you found it), compared to some of my dining out experiences, this does not rate at all on the 'snobby' radar. Although, that could just mean that I am one of the snobs and therefore feel quite at home here. I find the atmosphere laid back and very relaxed. Overall, a very nice dining experience, one to visit if you are ever in the area.

Jinxed

Just a short note to explain that my last post 'Dear Sydney, Ulm is a ruthless flirt' was not accessible with some versions of Internet Explorer or maybe all versions I am not sure. It had something to do with having composed it as a Word document originally or it could have been that Sydney just wasn't happy. It should be fine now, let me know if you are still having problems.

Dear Sydney, Ulm is a ruthless flirt

Dear Sydney,

City of my childhood, how did it come to this? It has been two years, the longest we have ever been apart and I have some confessions to make. Lately, I have been noticing some strange occurrences that at first I tried to deny but now I can't ignore. I would have slapped you to your senses if you had happened to pass such a notion by me 6 months ago. Three months ago, I would have denied all accusations defensively, aggressively even. That would have been my denial stage. Today, I am ready to confess it all. Sydney, Ulm has been flirting with me and worst of all, I think I have been flirting back. I guess it all started when the weather started getting a little warmer and I was able to wear skirts again and you know how much I like wearing skirts. Then the sky seemed to be an endless blanket of blue and well, that sort of reminded me of you. Up to this point, I was completely unaware that it had already begun. There I was running around barelegged under the blue sky, completely innocent to the seduction. Then, I went to Meera's house and she showed me her... um... really big zucchini and that is when I think I started flirting back. I mean it was clear Ulm was showing off but I had never seen one quite as big as this before.
I admit, the blue skies have been replaced with clouds, it has been raining almost daily but I would be lying if I said I didn't find it a little bit romantic. The clouds are the prettiest shade of grey, the same colour as my favourite t-shirt and you know how much I like grey... You also know, because whatever happens between us, you will always know me best, how much I love the smell of salt in the air. It is the smell of Sydney beaches that I missed in my first years here. So, you can imagine then, how shocked I was, when I breathed in the summer breeze yesterday. I mean, Sydney, salt is one thing, but sniffing the sweetness of berry flavoured air, that is another. Strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, raspberries wafting in the air like perfume and you know how much I like berries. And perfume. And all things sweet. Even the inedible, sweetness of air...
Yes, I sometimes get the feeling that Ulm quite likes me and wants me to stay. This could just be the separation talking Sydney, I mean it has been two years and perhaps come winter and the return of the fog, which is an unfavourable shade of grey entirely, I will regret my confession but the winter clothes are already in shop windows and I have caught myself thinking that I can't wait for mulled wine and boots and snow again. Now I know you are wondering who I am. What has this city done to me? There, I'd have to ask you, can anyone resist the attractive power of multi-coloured cauliflower? Where have you been hiding these Sydney?
Or for that matter, a 1 litre serving of beer?
I know you can't feel good about yourself after the last picture. Being the lover of beer that you are, I am guessing that feelings of inadequacy may be creeping in. Don't be too hard on yourself, no city can have it all. At least perhaps now you are starting to understand how powerless I really am in all this. It is a hopeless game of tug and war. Maybe you think I am easy. Maybe I am. But this assault on my senses has made me weak, even I am surprised at the spring in my step as I go about my day. Maybe it is this German course that I have been doing. I have heard it said, that the language is the key to the culture. Whatever it is, I am not proud of myself but I couldn't hide the truth from you any longer. I can only reassure myself (and you) with the thought that I will be seeing you again soon for Christmas and hopefully Ulm will get the hint. Will Ulm back off? Will I be at a BBQ imagining myself at the Christmas Market? Only December will tell. Till then Sydney, I will try to keep my straying heart faithful.

Yours determinedly,

Chilli

Highly Recommended

A quick recommendation if you are at a loss as to what to cook this weekend or indeed during the week when you are pressed for time. I have been doing a fair amount of cooking lately and enjoying it very much. I am often inspired by other bloggers' recipes and felt the need this time to pass on the information. OK, so here goes... Yesterday I got home pretty late and wanted to cook something that would satisfy my very savoury craving for Asian flavours but of course, I didn't want to be standing there for ages preparing. Armed with some organic minced pork and a red capsicum I had picked up on my way home, I put the rice on as soon as I walked in the door. I then went here for Chez Pim's instructions for Pad Krapow Moo. Since reading this entry of hers, I couldn't get the picture out of my head. I had never tried it before but I knew this is what I felt like eating. Before you knew it there was a flurry of action in the kitchen as I put my seasoned wok to work. The result was better than good and all I can say is, try it! Be sure to do the egg exactly the way she says, it will take you to a level you never dreamt a fried egg could.

Mini Holiday Weekend

Not sure if words will do our weekend justice, the pictures probably don't either. But fun it was! It was great to be 'in the nature' as the Germans would say.

Schmutz

An exchange in the bathroom after discovering a strange mouldy substance.

Me: Hey, look at this! What do you think this is?

He squats down for an extra good look. Forehead scrunched, nostrils flared, eyes staring over the top of tortoise shell frames. And then the declaration. 'SCHMUTZ!' It was uttered with such disgust, that I felt I had somehow smuggled in and started breeding this Schmutz in our bathroom. That was the end of that conversation. It was a one word reply that got me wondering, why life is so simple for men. Why they don't have to consider changing their names after marriage, why they have a standard suit to wear to every occasion and why, above all, they know the answer to all questions. Even when they don't really know the answer. I could tell that whatever it was, wasn't clean, but what it was, how it got there - those were the answers I was looking for. This in turn probably made him wonder, why women are so complicated and need to discuss everything to the point of exhaustion, when a sponge and some spray seems a simple enough solution. This, believe it or not, brings me to my German class, where our teacher asked us today, to write down our favourite German word and the reason this word has made it to No.1 in our ever growing vocabulary. There were a few contenders for my favourite word. 'Schadenfreude' was one of them. A word brought to my attention by a friend. A word also used in English and which translates to malicious joy or revelling in someone else's misfortune. It is used, I guess because we don't have a word that is as fitting. The meaning is nasty but she liked, as do I, that there is one official word for that in German, whereas in English, we have to string a couple of words together to express this concept. The other German expression I like, is 'ab und zu' which means 'from time to time.' It isn't one word, but when you say it fast it sounds like aponzu and that reminds me of ponzu. A very delicious Japanese sauce. But after having a good think about it, the aforementioned bathroom incident came to mind and the declaration of 'Schmutz' made me laugh out loud. It has made it to my top spot because the way it sounds is just so perfect for what it wants to describe. If you look up LEO you can hear the pronunciation and see that the following words are given as possible meanings for the word Schmutz: dirt, dirtiness, dung, feculence, filth, filthiness, foulness, grime, grunge, mud, ordure, pollutant, slush, smut, soil, squalidness and squalor. How appropriate. A word that covers all manner of yuck.

And you? Any favourite words and reasons why?

Bucolic St Gallen and the pigs

Though I haven't been posting as often as I would like to, there has been lots going on and lots to tell you. Unusually, time has become a bit of a luxury. I have finally been convinced by you know who to take a German course. It is an intensive course, which means it runs daily and I have to plan all my work around it. Anyway, I am in my second week of the five week course and am learning all sorts of interesting things, like adjective endings in the Dativ and the Akkusativ. Not. I love English. I keep wondering what I did in my last life to deserve the fate of not having German as my native language and having to learn English instead. Ah well... The grass is always greener, as they say. What I really wanted to tell you is that a few weeks ago, we visited St Gallen. Husband has some friends there and we stayed with them. Unfortunately, I left my camera at a friend's place and didn't have it with me on the trip, so I'm not able to post any pictures of the quaint, little city here. I am not sure why but I really enjoyed my stay there. I kept marvelling at the old houses, the window boxes and the pretty countryside. I guess, I must have been marvelling pretty obviously, because Husband's friend commented, 'It's bucolic, isn't it?' To which I responded 'What is bucolic?' Though, part of me wanted to correct him with, 'You mean beautiful' and another part of me wanted to pretend I knew what he was going on about. I am after all the native English speaker, English instructor and all-round English expert. After our walk, said friend pulled out his mega-huge edition of the English dictionary, which contained a definition I couldn't argue with. Bucolic, as a noun, is a country person or a short poem about country life. Bucolic as an adjective, can be used to describe country scenery or rustic countryside. I am very pleased to have this new word in my clearly not-as-developed-as-I-thought vocabulary. I am starting to wonder how I ever did without it, bucolic seems to fit a lot where I am. The other thing I did was go shopping and I am still not sure how this happened but everything I bought, in some way pertained to pigs. I found it very bizarre when I looked at my purchases at the end of the day. Not very sensitive, I know, with all the negative pig things going on at the moment. Nevertheless, below you will see my new piggy friends. The first one (moving clockwise), a stuffed toy pig was bought for someone else but I can't give it away. That has never happened to me before, so I am taking it as a sign that it was meant to be mine. Notice the little black bird on its hind quarter? Too cute. The second is a pork cookbook called 'Schwein & Sohn' titled 'Pork & Son' in English but I find the German title so much better. It is an award winning French cookbook filled with amazingly photographed recipes and nostalgic stories. And what is even more freakily coincidental, is that the book cover matches exactly with my stuffed pig's nose. Must be a sign that everything I cook from here is going to be a crowd pleaser. I can't wait to cook from it. In the third and fourth picture you can see what we have named our 'Tetsuya' piggy bank. We are saving up to eat at Tetsuya's the next time we are back in Sydney. Let's hope there is enough in there by our next trip or it may just be a shrimp or schwein on the barbie for us. Which wouldn't be bad either.