Quick and Easy Salmon Coulibiac - inspired by Hairy Bikers

This is one of my OMG,-forgot-to-defrost-something-for-dinner-what-can-we-have-meals.

It was inspired by the Hairy Biker's recipe but is made from store cupboard and freezer ingredients.

From start to finish, including baking time this recipe takes about 45 minutes and is really delicious. The day I took the photos, I used Uncle Ben's Lemon and Rosemary Rice so I left out the lemon. Normally I make it without the prawns as my husband is allergic to them.

MmeLindt's Quick and Easy Salmon Coulibiac

You need:

Packet of ready made Puff Pastry

One egg

Packet of frozen salmon

Couple of cubes of frozen spinach leaves, defrost a little so you can separate them.

Uncle Ben's rice sachets or 100g long grain rice

Fresh dill, parsley and chives (or dried if fresh not available)

Handful of mushrooms (optional)

Handful of cooked, peeled prawns (optional)

Lemon zest

Preheat oven to 180°C.


How to do it:

If using rice, cook it in water with stock cube added. Otherwise, mix rice, herbs, chopped mushrooms, prawns, lemon zest and egg in a bowl.

Roll out your puff pasty. One one half of the pastry, scatter the spinach leaves on the pastry then layer half of the rice mixture on top. Place salmon on top then cover with remaining rice mixture.

Flip the pastry over the top of the salmon/rice and press the edges down. Bake in oven for about 25 - 30 minutes 

I quick defrosted the spinach in some warm water, just enough to spread it.

The puff pastry I buy here is round not rectangular, but works well.

 Note the fancy fish decoration made of off cuts of pasty.

Jewellery - Pearls before swine

What does that mean anyway? Pearls before swine? According to my research (ie. a quick google and a glance at the resulting Wiki page) it refers to the quotation from Matthew 7.6 in the discourse of holiness - implying that things should not be given to those who do not appreciate their value.

You can put pearls before me, I appreciate their value. I am a fan of pearls. Big chunky ones, little preppy ones, coloured ones, fake ones, real ones. I have a penchant for pearls.

When naughty @mrsgibson tweeted a link to this bracelet, I was sorely tempted. Particularly since I also noticed these pretty earrings to match.

I decided to treat myself. I have been looking for silver earrings for a while now. Last year we had a break in and almost all of my jewellery was stolen so slowly but surely I am replacing with new items. (quick justification in case my husband happens to glance at my blog).

MrsGibson was so kind as to send direct to Switzerland and today I received a well-wrapped package. The jewellery was wrapped in tissue paper and a tucked into a be-ribboned printed envelope. The rustle of tissue paper makes me think of a bygone age when cashmere cardigans were carefully wrapped in paper before packing in a trunk, which was laden onto a steamer bound for New York. Elegant ladies sipped tea in their suites, adorned with pearls no doubt.

The bracelet is handmade with sterling silver clasp - I love the style of the clasp - it makes a stylish statement out of a practical fastening - with genuine fresh water pearls.

The earrings are also handmade with Sterling Silver hoops, that are attached to the freshwater pearls  by a pretty arrangement of silver leaves.

The earrings dangle a little, which makes me feel feminine. I was shaking my head like a Glee cheerleader earlier, each little earring dance thrilling me.

If you are looking for a Christmas present, check out Mrs Gibson's website. I also loved the Button Bracelets - made with a mixture of new and antique French buttons. I bet they jingle and jangle nicely on the wrist.  And in an eyecatching colour like this lime and aqua bracelet, you can be sure to be noticed.

You can bin a cat, but please, don't get raped.

When a 28 year old Welsh woman dialed 999 to report a rape, it took courage. For she was not reporting a single rape, but a series of six rapes  on three occasions, and the perpetrator was not a stranger in a dark alley, he was her husband.

There is a strange belief held by some that a "date rape" or marital rape is less harrowing, less serious than when a woman is raped and beaten by an unknown man in a park or a field. It is not rape-rape, to quote Whoopi Goldberg.

This is the biggest piece of bullshit. Rape is rape. There are no graduations, there is no Rape Lite. It is a horrifying act of violence against a woman, no matter where it takes place.

Women raped by their partners have to face an added horror, in addition to the actual rape itself. They must come to terms with the incredible betrayal of trust and love by the person who should be closest to them, the person who should love, honour and protect them from harm.  It is not unusual for them to stay with their partners, to justify their behaviour, "I was being annoying, I shouldn't nag, he doesn't mean it, he is a good father..."

These women need added support to come to terms with the crime against them.

What they don't need is prosecution when they have been persuaded by their abuser and his family to withdraw the allegations.

As crazy as it sounds, this actually happened. Yesterday the Telegraph reported the story.

Here the basic facts:

November 2009 - Welsh woman phones 999 to report 6 rapes on 3 occasions by her husband

January 2010 - Woman contacts the Police to say she wants to drop the charges. Police and prosecutors decide to press on with the case. It emerged during this time that the husband had visited his wife and children over Christmas and that they had had consensual sexual relations.

February 2010 - Woman goes to the police to tell them that she lied. There were no rapes. She was arrested and charged with perverting the course of justice.

Summer 2010 - Woman tells police that she wishes to make a new statement, declaring that the retraction had been a lie and that the rapes did indeed happen. She had been persuaded by her husband and his sister to drop the charges and pretend that she lied.

Friday, 5th November - Woman is jailed for 8 months for perverting the course of justice by making a false retraction. Judge John Rogers told her she had caused “a substantial amount of wastage for the Crown Prosecution Service and police”. She was told:

"You now have to be dealt with for making a false retraction. If you had to be dealt with for making a false allegation of rape you would be looking at a sentence of two years."
It is an absolute disgrace. In jailing her for the false retraction, we must assume that the Judge believes that the rapes took place but the husband has not been convicted of the rapes - he pleaded not guilty to the charges. I would be interested to hear the legal side of that argument.

Of course it must have been frustrating for the police and the prosecutors when the woman changed her story several times but this is a woman who has been abused by her husband for years - according to her solicitors. At what point did human decency fall by the wayside, at what point did they decide that it would be a good idea to prosecute this woman?

She intends to appeal against the decision and her solicitors hope that she will be freed on bail until the court case can be heard. Campaigners from the End Violence Against Women Coalition, said: "Imprisoning a woman for a 'false retraction' of a rape allegation sends out a chilling message that the criminal justice system is still in the dark ages in relation to sexual violence and does not understand the pressure women come under from perpetrators during the legal process."
 Until now there have been a few newspaper articles about this, one or two blog posts but I am missing the unbridled fury of the British public, the likes of which the Cat Bin Lady, Mary Bale was subjected to. I have linked to her story in the very unlikely event that there is anyone out there who did not hear about her dumping a cat in a wheelie bin. Mary escaped a jail term, but was vilified by the public, receiving abuse calls and death threats.

In contrast, it seems that very few care that a young woman, who has escaped an unhappy and abusive marriage, is separated from her children because she was pressured into making a false retraction of rape - to spare her husband a longer jail sentence.

If you know of any way that we can support this unnamed woman, please let me know.

Writers' Workshop - Neighbours

My second Writers' Workshop was just as enjoyable as the first. Here my story.

Old Neighbours

"Morning, Dad. How are you today?"

"I would be fine if it weren't for that crazy witch next door interfering again".

"Dad, have you been arguing with Mrs Gibson again? Why can you not just ignore her? You know she has been slightly odd since Mr Gibson died".

"Odd? Completely off her rocker, you mean. She was out in her garden at 7am deadheading roses. At 7 am!"

"Perhaps she couldn't sleep and wanted to start on some chores. After Mum died, you had trouble sleeping. It is not unusual after bereavement".

"I did not get up and disturb all the neighbours by gardening at dawn".

"Dad! She couldn't have disturbed you, unless she was deadheading the roses with a chainsaw? And 7 o' clock is hardly dawn".

"Don't be cheeky, young lady. You are not too old to be laid over my knee. The old bat is as mad as a coot. She told me last week that I could do with a haircut and that since she used to cut old Jack's hair, she would trim my hair for me. As if I would let the crazy woman near me with a sharp implement in her hands".

"Oh, Dad. You have never laid me over your knee, not in 35 years. Maybe Mrs Gibson fancies you and is trying to lure you into her house to have her wicked way with you".

"Wash your mouth out with soap, Cecilia Anne. Fancies me! Ha! More likely she wishes to murder me and bury me under the rose bushes".

"Hmm. Not a bad idea, you would make good fertilizer".

"Are you trying to say that I am full of shit?"

"The thought never crossed my mind. Gotta go, Dad. I have a meeting. Call you at the weekend".

Putting the phone down with a smile, Robert thanked his lucky stars that he had such a funny, caring daughter. Since the death of his wife two years before, she had cajoled, spoiled and sometimes berated him out of the gloom that had surrounded him those first awful months. He was struck by the thought that Mrs Gibson was not so lucky. That good for nothing layabout son of hers hardly showed his face. When he did, Robert suspected it was to tap the old bat for a loan.

Perhaps he should be a bit nicer to his neighbour. It was painful to watch her, to see how deep in the fog of grief she was, so lost and confused. He resolved to throw her a lifeline. Just as his daughter had done for him. He drank a second cup of coffee and planned Operation Gibson.

Steeling himself for the task ahead, he searched his cupboard for the jumper with the hole in the sleeve. Cecilia had offered to sew it for him but at the time he was being obstinate for some unknown reason and told her he liked it with the hole.

Crossing the driveway, he skirted around the damned rosebushes and rang the bell of his neighbour’s house.

"If you have come to complain about me deadheading the roses, think again, old man".

"Old? Who are you calling old? You are the same age as me, Mary Jane Gibson", Robert gritted his teeth, "Actually, I came to ask a favour".

Mary regarded her neighbour suspiciously, "A favour? What?"

"This jumper. It has a hole. Cecilia refused to repair it for me, said that it was not worthwhile repairing, that I should throw it out. It is only 15 years old and there is plenty of good wear in it yet".

"Throw it out! Heavens, the youth today. It is a lovely jumper. I remember Cathy buying it for you in that store on the High Street, the one that is now a mobile phone shop. Let me have a look at it. Come in the house, you are letting all the warmth out”.

Shuffling through the house to the dining room, Mary gestured to Robert to follow her. It had been several months since he had been inside the house, not since the week that Jack died. Looking around he noticed that there a couple of odd jobs needing done. The skirting board in the hall was loose and one of the curtain rails was falling off the wall.

“Go and get me some tools and I will fix that curtain rail for you”, Robert told his neighbour, “you can fix my jumper while I do that and secure the skirting board. What else do you need done?”

“I don’t need anything done, thank you. I manage quite well on my own, I will have you know”.

“Don’t be daft. I am good at DIY but can’t sew. You fix my jumper, I will fix your house. If you feel that I have done more than my share, you can cook me lunch”.

Mary sniffed, and turned away, returning a few minutes later with her late husband’s tool box. Gently stroking the lid as she opened it, she stared at Jack’s treasured tools. It was the first time she had taken them out since he died. She did not hear Robert walk over to stand behind her, but felt his warm hand awkwardly pat her back as he looked over her shoulder. “Aye, he was a good man, your Jack. Kept a good tool box.”

Strangely comforted, she nodded. “I will darn that jumper of yours. I suppose I could make us some lunch afterwards. I have a bit of chicken that would do, with some potatoes and veg.”

Switching on Radio 4, Mary sat in her favourite armchair and picked up her sewing bag. When her needle was threaded and the work begun, she looked over the top of her bifocals and watched Robert work on the house. Jack had always said that they were lucky to have such good neighbours. She smiled. As usual, Jack had been correct.

NaNoWriMo - National Novel Writing Month

Did you know that November is National Novel Writing Month? No? Neither did I until a poster on Mumsnet mentioned that she had signed up.

It is an interesting idea. During the month of November, you register with the NaNoWriMo website with the aim of writing a 50,000 word novel. To do this, you really have to commit to 2,000 words a day.

The aim is not to write a blockbusting, best-selling novel in a month (although that would be rather thrilling) but to write. To stop procrastinating, twittering, mumsnetting, doing all those things that make it impossible to write. To just do it - to steal a advertising slogan.

The tight time frame does not leave room to edit and re-edit, to worry which word would be best, and if the sentence structure is great. NaNoWriMo is about writing, no matter how bad, as long as you get it onto paper - or onto a word.doc.

Since I have been thinking about writing, and have made a couple of attempts only to give up on them again, I decided this would be a great opportunity to really force myself to get more disciplined about writing.

My new daily plan started today, when I set down two hours between 10am and 12pm to write. I actually did slightly more that two hours and a grand total of 2,407 words.

During the weekdays of November, if you see me on any social networking websites between the hours of 10am and 12pm, you hereby have my permission to slap me with a cold wet fish.