All I want for Christmas is this...

Thanks to Mr Gareth Bright for this beautiful photo...Best present!

I arrived in Bangkok on Christmas eve. Days of delays at Heathrow (read third worl ghetto) and dealings with the incompetence of Air India staff had made for frayed nerves and an occasional and slightly off putting twitching in my left eye. Twenty four hours of travel however ended in the most joyous reunion between me and my dearest friend Evie (Aka Tangerine Tree). As she navigated our way home through Bangkok's bustling stations, across its rammed roads, I felt the tolls of the trip leacing me, as I anticipated cracking open a bottle of duty free Baileys and a few bottles of Chilean merlot. After a quick (much needed shower) and change it was off to a Christmas Eve party at Eden's house. Eden lives in the same building as my Tangerine and had decked her house it in much festive spirit. THe evening was a wonderful blend of old and new friends - reconnecting with some people I hadn't seen in years (Gareth and Jamie) and meeting others for the first time (Eden and Chantal). What started off so civilised - we were even served some soup - soon turned into the kind of gathering where every conceivable drink was poured, every drop drunk. We reminisced, fought about music and introduced each other to new stuff (Gareth and Evie thanks for Lissie, Jamie don't forget about Darwin Deez) shouted over each other and went on a midnight booze run and had an argument with a dildo wielding neighbour (rather don't ask). Needless to say none of us were feeling very clever in the morning. But it Christmas! And so we soldiered through our brutal hangovers, put on some Christmas rokkies and headed off to a beautiful buffet style lunch at The World restuarant.

Silly season could not be a more apt description. The four of us - Yvie, Gareth, Eden and myself, were at that point of hangover where it was only possible for us to make sense to each other. The plethora of dishes and delicacies had us stupified, the view of Bangkok held us spellbound. As we fed the legacy of the night before we took advantage of our lack of adult supervision and added totally inappropriate behaviour and toilet humour into the festive mix.

Despite the nausea and inconceivable thirst, Gareth and I were in adventurous spirits and so decided we would try oysters for the first time, Aphrodisiac?! I think not! Nothing turns you OFF faster than a boger that tastes like the ocean's ass! This is one taste I will never acquire. Later we all had a little egg nog for the first time and here was a gamble that paid off. The potent alcohol/egg mix made me a fire breathing dragon and certainly took the edge off. We munched our way through prawns and cheeses, salads and soups, roasts and desserts (including a magical ginger bread house). Spoonerisms were the entertainment of the day, with our muddled brains producing such fine examples as eye braai (a South African eye brow?) and plitter (the love child of poppy seeds and glitter). We left our gastronomical adventure several kgs heavier and full of festive spirits with the need to put our food babies to bed. This was the most unusual and yet merry Christmas, but the traditions were over and Evie and I were about to haul our backpacks across Bangkok and take what from here on shall be known as the Hell Train..,

To be continued...

It's Cool to Compliment

Self deprecation is in. Hell, self deprecation is the new black. And I am not talking about modesty here people, I am talking about downright dissing ourselves. It's got to a point where I cannot remember the last time I was sitting down with a group of my friends and I heard one of them say something positive about themself. No one likes an egotist, or a fat head, but to be honest I am sick of hearing people list their failings: every last dimple of cellulite, every last pimple and blackhead, every fear and phobia, every faux pas and foible. Hey! You are better than that! You are the sum of your parts and all those hang ups and neuroses fold together with all the great stuff into the most delightful package. The reason people love, or admire, or indeed are just amused by you.

This is not to say I am not a dreadful, whiny bore about all my short comings. I mean lets face it, we have been living with most of these things, in varying degrees (both physical and emotional/mental) since our teens, when we suddenly opened our eyes critically for the first time and fell into a state of hate with our own selves. We battled up hill for the best part of 10 years, trying to get to grips with all these new found reasons to dislike ourselves, trying to come to terms with curly hair and gangly legs and pangs of jealousy and ugly toes and a host of other imperfections, and just when we seem to have grown into all these attributes, it seems the mid twenties plonk a whole lot more insecurity on our plates.

So firstly, to my friends who read these restless rambles of mine, please remember that I see something (or many things) beautiful in every one of you. And sometimes those things are in fact the ones you so bitterly complain over. Your insecurities make you human, your funny toes make me laugh, I don't see cellulite I see a great ass. At this time of the year I am seeing everyone at parties all dressed up, happy from mulled wine and presents, and I can't believe how lovely everyone is, and its so easy to mull these thoughts over in our heads, while others are obsessing over whether there hair is doing that stupid thing or whether they just upset someone with their tipsy racousness. So today your mission, should you chose to except, is to tell people every time something nice about them pops into your head. Shower people with (true) compliments. Maybe it will shut them up droning on about their flaws, and get them thinking about how cool it is to compliment! 'Cause guess what, You're Beautiful!

LoveActually

Christmas movies are as a part of the festive season as mistletoe and crackers. While I usually applaud myself for a somewhat discerning taste in film, I love to wallow in the sentimentality and predictability of the Christmas film. I love the romantic scene when it snows for the first time, and the moment when Dad realises that his kids are a lot more important than his corporate job (I know its vomit inducing but I really dont care), I love seeing the elves make all the toys, and I love it when fully grown adults start believing in Father Christmas again... I love it all! But I do have a favourite. Love Actually is not just a festive classic, to me it is one of the most perfect romantic comedies ever made. The Americans tried to do it with that abortion called Valentines Day, but they just cannot recreate that sort of magic with out descending into cliche after cliche.

All the interlinking stories are about love, but love in its different guises and with its different meanings. The beauty of poor Mark's love for Juliet is made that much better by the fact that it can never be, and the humour of his little slide show is great in that desperate, English way. How many times I have believed my wasted heart would love someone until they were mummified...ah! I can never see Emma Thompson's heart get broken, with the plaintive sounds of Joni Mitchell in the background without shedding a little tear, and why oh why can't Karl and Sarah end happily ever after? Damn that phone. And yet her love for her brother is so touching too.

And so there are sad stories where you don't expect sad stories to be, and yet there is a dash to the airport, and Colin Firth and the lovely portugeuse girl learn new languages for each other, and the Rock Star realises that the love of his life may indeed be his manager (in his own words: the ugliest man on earth), and the posh prime minister falls in love with the voluptuous tea lady from the dodgy end of Wandsworth (coincidentally this may be where I live), and Colin Frissel and his BIG KNOOOOB get to have an orgy in the states, and my absolute favourites, the body doubles (Martin Freeman - Tim from The Office, and Joanna Page would become Stacey of Gavin and Stacey) hook up in a charmingly conventional way considering the nudity, and generally I just feel all warm inside, and ready to believe in love and human happiness and all those things again.

So Merry Christmas! And if anyone is feeling a little grinchy out there I recommend you pop it in the dvd player and feel your heart grow three sizes.

PS - to avoid total syrupy Christmas overkill, should be watched in conjunction with A Nightmare Before Christmas, just for the sake of balance.

Francesca's Secret Kitchen

London has a secret. It's called underground dining. For the last two years people all over London have been holding what could be described as a mix between a dinner party and a restaurant. I have been slightly tardy at getting in on the trend but now that I have I am convinced.

Having heard rave reviews of Francesca's Secret Kitchen (one friend described it as being transported back to the era of The Great Gatsby) we decided that this was where we would start our underground dinner party adventures. Francesca's Secret Kitchen is run by two Francescas. It is hosted in one of their houses, and basically you email to reserve a booking, they serve up to 20 people an evening, and host about twice a month. You are served a four course meal and the suggested 'donation' is £30.

After an early false start, last Friday my dearest girlfriends and I braved the chill and frost and headed to Camden to Francesca's Secret Kitchen. Having never been I really wasnt sure what to expect, but as we were ushered over the threshold I saw that we were basically coming into a home, albeit a beautifully decorated one. Warm, and lit by the glow of scores of candles, our dinner tables had already been set, each one with different linens, and those who had arrived before us were mingling in the observatory. The house was cluttered (in a most pleasant way) with meaningful objects from all over the world. The design aesthetic consistes of a meaningful, rather mismatched bric-a-brac, a delightful shambles of sentimental pieces collected over a time. A huge wall in the observatory was taken up by books and knick knacks, photos and postcards. The bathroom (just a little guest loo) was wallpapered with crazy wall paper covered in leaves and monkeys (?!) with a wall dedicated to travel books and ornamental pineapples - just the right amount of whimsy for me.

After a precursory drink we headed to our tables. Some tables were mixed with more that one group, creating a really relaxed non threatening environment to meet new people. We had brought our own wine, and so as the bottles were opened everyone began unwinding from the weeks stresses as we tucked into the first course of pulses soup with mushrooms. I am not the biggest fan of soup but this was truely extraordinary. In fact at one point I thought Tiff was going to get into the bowl with the soup. The next course was roasted peppers with a tuna sauce - the low point in an evening of culinary brilliance.

Away from the buzz of a restaurant and the annoying hovering of a waiter, dinner with friends is a lot more relaxing. Conversation flowed, uninhibited by the gentle hum of the other diners, as we were served our main course. Beautiful beef stewed in red wine, served with polenta, it was the most glorious adaptation of traditional South African pap and vlies, and was the subject of much hilarity as Tiff continued to refer to it as beef and 'placenta'.

Dessert was a refreshing orange tarte served with chocolate ice cream, and followed by espresso and mint tea.

The evening was certainly a success. It was lovely to have the intimacy of a dinner party without the inevitable rushing off of the host every moment to deal with some new emergency in the kitchen. There's also something pleasantly voyeuristic (in an non seedy way) about going into the home of someone you don't know and seeing how they live - especially when they live so beautifully. My anticipation had been of more interaction with the hosts, however their absence just allowed everyone to get on with it. So, thank you to the Francesca's for opening up their home and feeding us so well. If you are interested in having dinner at Francesca's look here.