How to Drink Water

I went to see the nurse for a routine check-up this morning. She weighed me - you have to put on some weight for me – and took my blood pressure – low, you have to drink more water or you will pass out!

Want to have glowing skin? Want to relieve constipation? Want to lose weight? Want to think more clearly? Want to play at Wembley? The answer, it would seem, is always the same – drink more water! But mineral water is expensive and environmentally problematic. Tap water often just seems a bit blah. How do we force all this lovely, life enhancing H2O down our throats?

First, please always filter your water. It is worth installing a reverse osmosis filter in your kitchen if you can afford to.

Buy yourself a beautiful crystal or fancy glass water jug and a few gorgeous glasses. Fill the jug and add delicate flavourings:

* Slices of organic, unwaxed, lemon, orange or any other citrus fruit.

* A teaspoon of rosewater and the juice of half a lime.

* Thin slivers of cucumber (use a vegetable peeler to make elegant strips).

* Slices of ginger.

* A big sprig of fresh rosemary.

* Branches of fresh mint.

Pasta With a Twist

My friend and raw goodness goddess Jeni Cook posted this recipe for living pasta with Marinara sauce.

Here is a living food recipe that tastes as good if not better than the cooked version.

For the pasta:

2 big, fresh courgettes

For the Marinara sauce:

2 cups tomatoes

1 cup red bell pepper

1/4 cup olive oil

2 cloves garlic

Large pinch cayenne (optional)

12 sun dried tomatoes, soaked in olive oil

1/4 teaspoon Himalayan salt

1 tablespoon chopped fresh basil

2 Medjool dates, pitted (optional)

Using a potato peeler, peel long thin strips of courgette to make the pasta.

Place the courgette pasta strips into a large bowl.

Pile all of the Marinara ingredients into a food processor and blend until smooth.

Pour sauce over courgette pasta and serve.

Try topping with capers, green or black olives or chopped baby yellow tomatoes.

If you want to learn more about living food, you could do no better than to attend one of the classes that Jeni runs through her company Raw Health Harmony.

Tofu Fried Rice

This is a great way to use up any cooked brown rice that is hanging around in the fridge

As always, use everything organic if possible.

Cold pressed oil (olive or coconut)

A carrot

Two or three other vegetables: choose from zucchini; broccoli; fennel; cabbage; frozen peas; mooli; celery; leek

About an inch of ginger

A touch of chilli, to your taste (fresh or dried)

A large clove of garlic

Some silken tofu

Tamari sauce

Toasted sesame seeds

A big handful of flat-leaf parsley or coriander leaves (or both)

If you already stirred sesame seeds into your rice when you first cooked it, there’s no need to add any more. If not, dry toast a handful of dried sesame seeds.

Slice up the carrot and the other vegetables as thinly as you can.

Cut the ginger into matchstick slivers and thinly slice the garlic and chilli.

Chop the tofu into 1cm x 2cm chunks

Put a good splosh of the oil (count to three as you pour) into a heavy based pan on a medium heat. Fry all the vegetables together until they have softened but not browned. Add the ginger, garlic and chilli. Fry for a minute longer.

Add the cooked rice and sesame seeds. Keep stirring. Don’t let the rice stick to the bottom of the pan. Once the rice is hot, add several shakes of Tamari sauce (taste it as you go – you can always add more but you can’t take it out).

Pile in the silken tofu (if you stir it too much it will disintegrate) and the herbs. Turn the mixture a few times until the tofu is heated through.

That’s it!

Mackerel Escabèche

Mackerel is full of health enhancing omega-3 fatty acids. It also contains selenium, vitamins B6, B12 and niacin. It is yummy and it’s cheap too. What’s not to love?

Best to use an anodised aluminium frying pan to cook this recipe. Boiling vinegar in a steel pan can give a metallic taste.

Get two nice fat mackerel. Fresh mackerel will have shiny skin and clear eyes, like the ones in this picture. They will be firm to touch and not smell fishy. Ask the fishmonger to fillet them for you.

Peel and thinly slice a carrot, a small white onion, two cloves of garlic and half a stick of celery or half a small bulb of fennel. Chop up a big handful of fresh green herbs: oregano is lovely; you could also use flat-leaf parsley, thyme or coriander.

Dry the mackerel fillets with a paper towel and then shake them in a paper bag with some plain flour, salt and pepper so that they’re lightly dusted, not caked, with flour.

Pour a good sploosh of organic cold-pressed olive oil into the frying pan and fry the mackerel fillets on both sides until they’re golden.

Put the mackerel fillets, skin side down, into a shallow dish that is just large enough for them to lie snugly side-by-side.

Pour another sploosh of olive oil into the pan and gently fry the carrots, onion, garlic and celery or fennel until they just begin to colour. Now pour in four tablespoons of organic apple cider vinegar and four tablespoons of water. Add a pinch of salt, a few mills of pepper and a few crushed coriander seeds, if you have them. Chuck in the herbs. Cover and simmer until the vegetables are cooked (it won’t take long).

Pour the vegetables and liquid over the mackerel fillets.

This is delicious eaten warm with crunchy toast or keep it in the fridge and then take it on a picnic.

Sesame Sweet Potato Boats

I have this when I just can't be bothered to cook a meal, like today.

1. Put the oven on to 180º.

2. Chuck in a sweet potato.

3. Cook until the potato is crispy on the outside and soft to touch, 20-40 minutes, depending on the size of the potato. Tip: I put on an oven glove and just give the potato a little squeeze to test it.

4. Whilst the potato is cooking, toast a handful of sesame seeds on a dry frying pan. Tip: I toast quite a lot and then keep them in a paper bag so I always have some to add to rice or salad.

5. Cut the potato in half lengthways. It should kind of pop when you put the knife into it.

6. Score the flesh into squares but leave the skin on.

7. Drizzle the potato with olive oil and soy sauce.

8. Top the sweet potato boats with a good layer of sesame seeds.

9. Eat the whole thing, skin and all.

10. Put another one in the oven...

Royal Juice

I picture this juice being served to the Queen of Sheba as she reclines on silken cushions.

Everything should be organic

About three smallish raw beetroots

6-8 strawberries

Juice of one lime.

Put the beetroot and strawberries through the juice extractor. It’s better to put the strawberries through in between the beetroots. This is because the hard beetroots will help to push the softer strawberry pulp through the mesh of the juice extractor. If you’re using a Champion juice extractor scoop up the pulp and feed it through a second time. Squeeze the limes on a citrus press and stir in the lime juice.

Provençal Tomatoes

This dish is very evocative of the 1980s - as is this photograph.


Preheat the oven to 180 degrees.

Put a couple of slices of wholemeal bread in a food processor with two or three cloves of garlic, a big pinch of salt, a few sprigs of thyme or marjoram  and a couple of fistfuls of flat leaf parsley. Process it all into fine crumbs. Tip the garlicky crumbs into a bowl and mix in about a third of a cup of olive oil.

Cut about 1cm off the tops of six big ripe tomatoes. Using a teaspoon, scoop out some of the seeds. Pile the crumbs onto the hollow tomatoes, mounding them up generously on top. Put the crumbed tomatoes in a baking dish and cook until the tomatoes are soft and the topping is crispy (25-30 minutes)


As always, use as many organic ingredients as you can and organic cold-pressed virgin olive oil.

Black Cabbage Pasta (no cheese)

This is adapted from a recipe that my cousin Gaby taught me, many years ago in Tuscany. I think of her whenever I cook it, which is often because it is so delicious.


Use as many organic ingredients as possible.

A bunch of Cavolo Nero or Kale

At least three cloves of garlic

Half a red chilli or a pinch of dried chilli flakes

A big handful of flat-leaf parsley

Splash of fish sauce

Half a tin of salted anchovies

Plenty of extra virgin olive oil

A fistful of pine nuts

Pasta of your choice (I think this sauce works well with penne)

With a big knife, shred the Cavolo Nero or kale into strips about the width of a matchstick. If the stalks are tough and stringy, cut them away from the leaves before shredding (you can keep the tough stalks and put them in the juice extractor as part of your next green juice). If the stalks are tender, simply shred them along with the leaves.

Put a pan of salted water on to boil for the pasta.

Pour a good splosh of olive oil (at least three or four tablespoons) into a heavy based saucepan and add the shredded leaves. Put the lid on and place the pan on a very low heat. The aim is to sweat the kale, rather than to fry it. After about five minutes, turn the leaves and put the lid back on. Five minutes late, turn them again.

Put the pasta into the other pan, which should now be full of boiling water.

Finely chop the garlic and de-seeded chilli. Add them to the leaves along with a couple of shakes of fish sauce and the anchovies. Put the lid back on.

Toast the pine nuts in a dry frying pan, shaking them all the time until they are golden brown.

Coarsely chop the parsley.

Take the lid off the kale. By now your leaves should have cooked down into a rich green mass. The garlic will be soft and translucent and the anchovies will have melted away. Add more olive oil, stirring all the time. Keep slowly adding oil and stirring until the sauce doesn’t seem to absorbing the oil anymore. You will probably have added about a quarter of a cup of olive oil to the sauce by now. Throw in the parsley, stir it through and put the lid back on the pan.

Drain the pasta. Mix the sauce through the pasta. Serve it up and top each bowl with a generous sprinkling of toasted pine nuts.

God is in the Water

I long for a peaceful night of sleep. But I’m awake again at four a.m. At six I go upstairs and make fruit salad from organic papaya, rockmelon, blueberries, lime and mint. I eat the fruit salad. I drink a cup of organic tea with organic soya milk. Samantha and the girls still slumber. It is dark. What am I going to do now? Smoke a cigarette. But I’ve run out.

I drive to the nearest petrol station in Rose Bay. They’re just unlocking the door as I arrive. “What time does the car wash open?” I enquire. “Seven a.m.” I buy the cigarettes.

I drive back up the winding S bends to Vaucluse and then down to Nielsen Park. This place has become central to my life. Australia’s smallest national park runs down to the harbour where there is a small sandy beach with a netted swimming area. The bay itself is properly called ‘Shark Bay’. I’m grateful for the netting. The foreshore is grassy, shaded with Banksia trees and magnificent Moreton Bay Figs. In the middle of the promenade is a simple but elegant building housing a café and restaurant. I come here frequently to swim, to walk, to read books and to meet friends.

I sit on a bench and smoke one of the cigarettes. I feel less than virtuous. A soft pinkness is beginning to infuse the darkness. A ferry slides across the harbour with all its lights aglow, heading for Manly. It seems that I could almost reach out and touch it. I am surprised to find that I am not the only person here. Figures waft here and there in the gloom. Each person seems to be enclosed in his or her own cocoon of silence, alone.

Who goes swimming in the dark at 6.30 in the morning? These are not the body conscious babes and beautiful boys of Bondi Beach. A silver haired lady breast-strokes gently by. As I sit I hear a shuffling noise approaching. It is a man who has obviously had a stroke. He slides his feet in small, mincing steps. His right arm does not swing as he walks to the water. A handsome blonde man swims toward the shore. But as he emerges I notice that he has a withered leg. A single girl does yoga stretches on the sand. The dawn frequenters of Nielsen Park are the old, the crippled, the damaged and the broken. The people who really embrace life. The people who find true peace and freedom in the sea. People like me.

I walk back to the car, don my swimming costume and slip quietly into the water. I feel like I belong here.

Carrot Salad

Grate up two nice big organic carrots, using the large holes on the cheese grater.

Toast a fistful of sesame seeds on a dry frying pan.

Dress the carrots with sushi vinegar, olive oil (about one part vinegar to four parts oil). Add the sesame seeds and mix all together.

This is deliciously sweet and nutty. You can add it to a mixed or green salad or simply eat it on its own.

Cooking for Chemo

Oh I do feel guilty after not posting anything here for days. I know how you all worry and fret. Obviously I’ve been having fun with Nick. I have missed him a great deal. All my friends have been wonderful. Nonetheless it’s been hard going through all the chemo on my own. I find it immensely comforting just to share meals and watch DVDs with him. And it’s great to have someone to help me water the plants and take out the rubbish.

That said, I was surprised at how distressed I became after Nick arrived. “Compare and despair,” the wise ones say. What they mean is that wanting to be who one is not is a hiding to nothing. Yet that is what I was doing. I managed to put a subtle spin on it by comparing myself not to Cate Blanchett but to myself, six months ago. When Nick met me I had long red hair. I was carefree and healthy. Now I’m bald and sick. I’m tired all the time. I fear that he will see the reality and run away in horror. Oh, strike up the violins.

Nick reassured me. He told me that he thinks I’m beautiful and generally laid it on thick with all the stuff I like to hear. That cheered me up.

There are pros and cons to maintaining a long distance relationship. We don’t get bored or irritable with one another. At the same time there is unfamiliarity after a period of separation.

On Friday Nick and I jumped on the train up to Worcestershire. Eckington Manor Cookery School to be precise. I had heard that they were having a cookery demonstration called Cooking for Chemo. I love going on trains. I love food. To complete the trinity, Eckington Manor Cookery School has a luxury bed & breakfast attached. I was sold.

The whole shaboogle, including the cookery school, the guesthouse and an extensive farm belongs to a woman named Judy Gardiner. She is one of those people who positively fizz and crackle with good energy. I gather that Judy made her fortune by building up a pickle business from her kitchen table into a multi-million pound concern and then selling it off to a big name food conglomerate. It seems that this cookery school-farm operation is her life’s dream. I am always enthused by people who have the courage and imagination to pursue their vision and make it real.

Judy’s daughter, Jane welcomed us and took us to our room in Lower End House. Wow! The guesthouse is a timbered former farmhouse that dates back to the 12^th and 13^th centuries. It has been restored and modernised with immaculate attention to detail. Judy has an eclectic style that marries ancient and modern beautifully. The downstairs sitting room is built around a huge stone fireplace that one can stand inside. My guess is the house must have belonged to a wealthy farmer in its day. And now it does again. The furnishings are pure English Eccentric. There is a brown leather Andrew Martin Chesterfield with a Union Jack painted across the back of it. Above it looms a portrait of Judy’s prize winning Highland bull. Another sofa is covered with needlepoint cushions decorated with dogs. A leather pig footstool lurks nearby waiting to relieve one’s tired tootsies. Our bedroom was simple and luxurious. We occupied one end of the house, under ancient rafters that had been restored and repaired by craftsmen using hand cut joints and wooden pegs instead of bolts and nails. The floorboards were covered with a thick striped rug and the 12^th century stone chimney-breast was hung with an enormous flat-screen telly. It felt as stylish as a posh hotel yet as cosy and comfy as my mum’s (minus the spiders).

After a reviving cup of tea we sauntered across the yard to the cookery school. Here we met Judy herself, Dean the chef and Ledan, a nutritionist from Worcestershire Royal Hospital. Nothing about this place failed to impress. The cooking school is state-of-the-art. There are about a dozen workstations, each with an Aga or a high-end gas range. The surfaces are polished stone and the whole room is wired with sound and video. Along with about twenty others we settled down to watch Dean conjour up some of the Cooking for Chemo recipes that he and Ledan had collaborated to devise. First up was a starter of fresh prawns in cream, shallot and mustard sauce with warm, wilted lettuce. As Dean whisked and stirred our mouths began to water. Then, as he artfully arranged the finished demonstration dish we were magically served with the real thing. Some talented genii at the back of the class had cooked it up whilst we were absorbed with watching what Dean was doing.

For the main course Dean whipped up Vietnamese chicken with honey and ginger and jasmine rice. Again, we were all served with a bowlful to sample. Sweet honey mixed with zingy lime and salty fish sauce combined to create a complex yet enlivening flavour.

I should say a bit here about how big a part food has played in my whole cancer saga. Alcohol gave me up over ten years ago. Smoking is generally frowned upon by oncologists and other medical bods. For all sorts of chemo related reasons, sex can be problematic. What with surgery and the physically gruelling regime of chemotherapy, one usually feels too tired to go out dancing. So, for the duration, food is one of the few pleasures available. The problem is that the chemo makes one nauseous and imparts a metallic, cotton-woolly taste to everything. On those mouth-full-of-brillo-pad days I found that spicy foods were the best bet. I don’t mean food rammed full of throat-incinerating chillies. In view of the fact that chemo can cause one’s mouth and throat to become infested with ulcers I would suggest that one steer clear of the Vindaloos for a while. I am talking about skilfully spiced dishes that blend sweet with sharp and salty flavours. Vietnamese and Thai cuisines are perfect examples if one chooses the less fiery dishes. One of my favourite meals was Mee Hoon soup from the Number One Thai Café. It’s a delicate, clear broth served with rice vermicelli, chicken, prawns and crunchy vegetables. Afterwards I would rush home for a few squares of Green & Black’s dark mint chocolate.

Apple fool was served as pudding on the Cooking for Chemo menu. Sharp and sweet apples were mashed into whipped cream and yoghurt. It was not only delicious but also soft and easy on the mouth.

“Now wait a minute,” I hear you ask, “what’s with all this cream and sugar? Where is the broccoli, the raw carrots, the fish and brown rice?” Well, I asked those questions myself. It must be said that this demonstration was not entitled Cooking for Cancer Prevention but Cooking for Chemo. The recipes were devised in consultation with Ledan who is a nutritionist at a large general hospital. I understand that they see many patients who, because of the hideousness of chemo-induced nausea and how awful everything tastes, simply stop eating altogether. That leads to them losing a lot of weight. Tired and demoralised many others live on ready meals and take-aways. They can end up being overweight, yet malnourished. So their primary concern at the hospital is to try to figure out ways that patients eat enough calories to maintain their body weight and also manage to get in the five-a-day essential to basic nutrition. From that perspective the menu fitted the bill. There was loads of cream to fatten one up, protein in the form of chicken and prawns, rice for carbohydrate plus vegetables and fruit. The flavours were sharp and sweet so would be as bearable as anything can be whilst chemo taste buds are in play.

When I was first diagnosed with cancer I was deluged with well-meaning advice about what I must not eat. I fell into a frenzy of food paranoia. I gave up coffee and tea, sugar, dairy products, bread, pasta, all white flour, all biscuits and sweets, white rice and meat. I suspected that I might die if I ate a slice of toast with marmalade. Juicing became a religious ritual. I shopped daily for fresh, organic vegetables. In the midst of an event so life threatening and overwhelming it seemed like one area of my life that I could control. Everything associated with food became stressful and exhausting. One morning, after about two months, I thought “to hell with this.” I marched down to the Electric and ordered eggs, bacon, tomatoes, toast and a nice cup of tea. After that I felt a lot better.

These days I have settled into a way of eating that feels good for me. I have a fresh juice every day. I buy mainly organic fruit and vegetables. I eat a lot of vegetables and whole grains. I substitute every other cup of tea with a herbal tea and use organic milk in my regular cuppa. I prefer fish to meat. But I will also go out for a Chinese. And I have toast with marmalade for breakfast if I feel like it.

What Facebook is Good For

Here’s a fact, or two. One in nine women will get breast cancer. One in three people will get cancer of some sort. This means that everyone will either suffer from cancer or have a loved one who goes through it. It’s just a part of life these days. And yet there is still an undertone of shame and fear attached to this illness.

I’ve often wondered what facebook is good for. Now I think I’ve figured it out. I started a facebook page called Chemo Chic. The Chemo Chic facebook page does not exist to promote my blog. Rather, I set it up as a place where anyone can go and discuss Chemo Chic stuff: make-up; recipes; wigs; grief; jokes… whatever you like.

There have been some excellent juice recipes posted recently, notably one for green lemonade, delicious, one presumes, with green eggs and ham.

And it’s not just for people who have had cancer, its for families and friends of people who have had cancer. The more we can exchange information and support one another the less shame and fear there will be.

If you’re reading this then please regard yourself as a friend of a person who has had cancer (me). I officially invite you to visit the Chemo Chic facebook page and use it as your own. Just click on the facebook button on the right.

A Yummy Treat

I have posted several recipes on this blog as it has been going along. I hope you’ve liked them. They have mostly been of the super healthy, cancer-busting variety. In case you've missed them, I've put them all on the Chemo Chic facebook page

But here’s something divine that a reader posted on the Chemo Chic facebook page. I do believe that we feed our souls as well as our bodies. So a healthy diet has to contain some treats.

Dairy Free Chocolate Mousse

7oz of Dark Chocolate (Green & Blacks)

13½oz (400ml) Tin of Thick Coconut Milk

2 Level tablespoons of Icing sugar

2 Teaspoons of natural Vanilla Essence

Break the chocolate in pieces and melt the chocolate over a bowl of hot boiling water. Do not let the hot water touch the bottom of the bowl.

With a blender, whip the coconut milk and then add the icing sugar & vanilla essence.

Then add the chocolate and whip again.

Now pour into ramekins and put into the fridge to set for at least a couple of hours.

Carrot Zinger

After a tiring chemotherapy session the absolutely best thing to get me back on my feet is a classic carrot and apple juice - with a twist.

Everything should be organic

3 big carrots

1 apple

half an unwaxed lemon

a piece of ginger, about an inch square

Cut everything into pieces small enough to fit into the feeder of your juice extractor. Put all through the juicer including the lemon, skin and all. If you’re using a masticating juicer put the pulp through the juicer again.

This is Ambrosia

My friend Cecilia is a wonderful cook. She invites me over to help her make a wheat-free orange and almond cake. As Cecilia rattles the pots and pans I recline on her couch. When I next open my eyes a heavenly aroma of sweet oranges fills the house and three cakes are cooling on racks in front of the kitchen window. Cecilia gives me a whole cake to take home, despite not having lifted a finger to help.

Here is the recipe:

Use everything organic, if possible

2 large or 3 medium oranges

6 eggs

8oz (250 gms) of ground almonds

8oz (250 gms) of sugar

1 teaspoon of baking powder

butter and flour to prepare the cake tin

Cover the whole oranges with water in a big saucepan and boil them for one hour. Cool them off a bit then cut them in half and dig out any pips. Put the oranges, skin and all, into a food processor and puree.

Preheat the oven to 190ºC / 375ºF / Gas mark 5

Beat the eggs in a large bowl then add the ground almonds, baking powder, sugar and orange puree. Mix it all well with a wooden spoon.

Butter a cake tin and then sprinkle it with flour. Bang off any excess flour.

Pour the mixture into the cake tin and bake for one hour. If it is still wet after and hour just cook it for a bit longer. Allow the cake to cool completely then bang the tin and turn it out onto a plate.

Cecilia served the cake whilst it was still just warm with crème fraiche, fresh blueberries and a sauce made from:

Juice of three oranges

1 tablespoon (2 dessertspoons) of icing sugar

2 teaspoons of rosewater

This is ambrosia.

p.s. I am posting all the recipes that appear on this blog on the Chemo Chic facebook page. Click on the facebook button on the right to go there.

Facebook

I have started a facebook page, titled Chemo Chic. I hope that’s not confusing. The idea is that it is a place to discuss Chemo Chic type stuff: hair loss; wigs; scarves and how to wear them; feeling unattractive; lipstick; make-up; weight loss; weight gain; recipes; feeling sick; nail care; clothes... and all that jazz. There are photo albums that you may want to add to. Click the facebook button on the right to go there.

Rocket, Goat's Cheese and Membrillo Salad

I had something similar in a café in Barcelona. This is my version:

A bowlful of organic rocket (or mixed salad leaves of your choice)

About 50gr of organic soft goat’s cheese

About 50gr of quince paste (it’s called membrillo in Spanish and is available from any Spanish food shop and also some big supermarkets. I couldn’t find an organic version)

Organic pine nuts

Organic flaked almonds

Pomegranate seeds (Sainsbury’s and M&S both sell them. Again, I couldn’t find organic. If they’re too difficult to get just leave them out)

Organic brown rice vinegar or apple cider vinegar

Organic olive oil

Salt

I always rinse and spin the salad, even if it’s organic. I’m just not sure what they wash it in.

Dress the salad with vinegar and salt

Cut up the quince paste and goat’s cheese into small cubes

Toast the pine nuts in a dry frying pan over a low flame. When they’re nearly all browned add the flaked almonds, they will toast much more quickly.

Pile the quince paste, goat’s cheese, pine nuts, almonds and pomegranate seeds on top of the salad. Add olive oil and toss.

Cucumber Salad

This is delicious with fish and brown rice.

Half an organic cucumber

A dessertspoon full of organic sesame seeds

Umeboshi vinegar (Clearspring make one called Ume Plum Seasoning)

Mixed salad seaweed (Clearspring, again, do a packet called Sea Vegetable Salad that has three different seaweeds in it: wakame; agar and aka tsunomata. It’s quite expensive but you only need a pinch for this salad)

Wash the cucumber and stripe it with a peeler. Slice it very thinly (use a mandolin if you’ve got one) and spread it out in a wide-ish bowl. Sprinkle the cucumber with vinegar and leave it to marinate.

Put a large pinch of seaweed into cold water to soak for 10 minutes.

Toast the sesame seeds in a dry frying pan over a low flame, keep shaking and stirring them so they don’t burn.

Drain the seaweed and mix it in with the cucumber.

Sprinkle toasted sesame seeds on the top.

How to Cook Brown Rice

When I was a child, my mum’s outlandish, gay, alcoholic friend Richard O’Sullivan came to stay with us for a couple of weeks. I can use his real name because he is dead now. We were living in Buderim, Queensland at the time. After a while we moved to Mooloolaba and Richard came with us, then we moved to Brisbane, then to Byron Bay and then to Sydney and Richard came with us. Mum could not get rid of him no matter what she tried: changing the locks; calling the police; punching him; dumping him at her friends’ houses... Richard got us into trouble wherever we went, drank us out of house and home, robbed our piggy banks, hogged our couch and farted when we were trying to watch tv.

But Richard also brought untold riches. He introduced us to Stravinsky; antique silk kimonos; Italian cooking; Spanish language; Proust; the art of straining glass out of red wine through a silk scarf when you’ve smashed the top off the bottle in desperation because you’ve lost the corkscrew and, not least, the very great skill of laughing in the face of adversity.

At heart, Mum and Richard were far to Bohemian to ever become proper hippies. But we did go through a health food stage. That involved visiting Vegan and Macrobiotic cafés and being forced to eat boiled grains and vegetables with no butter or seasonings. Also to listen to the rather hypocritical self-righteous cant of alternative types who would spend their days telling others how best to live their lives and then go home and hit their wives. Eventually I went on strike, refusing all health food. Richard used to make a brown rice, tuna, carrot and sultana salad. My mum still reminisces fondly about it.

All of this is a rather long-winded way of telling you why I have hated brown rice all my life. That is, until I learned how to cook it properly.

Now I love brown rice. I could eat it every day.

How to cook brown rice:

Use everything organic, if possible.

Half a cup of short grain brown rice.

One cup of water

A handful of sesame seeds

A sprinkling of Umeboshi vinegar (from Japanese shops or good health food shops)

Put the rice and the water in a small pan with the lid on. Bring it to the boil then turn the flame right down and leave it to simmer for 25 minutes. Do not take the lid off.

Meanwhile, dry roast the sesame seeds in a frying pan over a low flame. Stir or shake them constantly until they are golden brown because they can burn in a flash.

After 20 minutes or so, check the rice to see if it has absorbed all the water. The rice should be soft but a bit chewy, not mushy. If it is still wet, put the lid back on and leave it for another 5 minutes. Once all the water is absorbed, turn the flame off and let the rice sit with the lid on for another 5 minutes or so. Then stir in the sesame seeds and add a splash of the vinegar.

It is delicious with cucumber and seaweed salad.