Merry Christmas Y'all!

I completed my first Christmas in Texas! 

After a quiet morning (and after some epic presents were exchanged - my personal favourite being the avocado slicer and masher) hubby and I headed over to Mimi's house in Red Oak for our first (yes, first) Christmas dinner. We were greeted by lots of extended family who had all mucked in to create a wonderful meal! There was ham, prime rib, brussel sprouts (YES!), green bean casserole, rolls, cheese potatoes, chopped salad, a rice dish (incredibly delicious but I have no idea what it was), trifle, pecan pie and much more! After more present opening, we went and chose some furniture from cousin Bob's lock-up (including a washer and dryer which are arriving today and I am so grateful for!!!) and then headed over to the in-laws for our second Christmas dinner (I'd paced myself in the first: I'd stretched, I'd meditated, I'd imagined the goal...I was ready). My mother-in-law had created a masterpiece of turkey, ham, mashed potato, corn, rolls, green bean casserole and stuffing (or 'dressing' over here). She had also made a variety of Christmas candy that were chocolatey, coco-nutty, pecany and pretzely. Needless to say, our fridge is now stocked with left-overs which we will be nibbled throughout the day. 

The icing on the cake was when I was presented with a box of Christmas crackers and a Christmas pudding to make me feel at home!

This is a Christmas cracker (I'm not being patronising or filling space in my blog because I've run out of things to say (...), I just know that many of my US friends have never heard of the strange English tradition of pulling crackers at the dinner table. And no, it's not rude):

You pull it like this:

(I am slightly concerned for this woman as I know how sudden and with great force a Christmas cracker can crack. I hope the floor was padded.)

Once the cracker has cracked, a prize, a joke/game and a paper crown tumble out for your pleasure. It is custom for the crowns to be worn throughout the Christmas meal, unless you're like my hubby who rips his when he tries to ram it on his head (there has to be a certain amount of finesse to the art of paper crowning).

FYI: There were no pigs in blankets on my Christmas dinner plate as over here they look like this...

 ...and it would be weird to have a weener in a roll with turkey and bean casserole. In England, our pigs in blankets are sausages wrapped in bacon and are a traditional part of the Christmas dinner. 

FYI again: They don't celebrate Boxing Day over here!!! Apparently the tradition stems from when servants and tradesmen would receive boxes of gifts from their bosses the day after Christmas. It is recognised as a holiday in the UK, Canada, Hong Kong, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Trinidad and Tobago and a few other Commonwealth nations. Basically, it's Christmas Day number two and a chance to roll around in food-baby agony from the day before (especially if you had two Christmas dinners - my fingers can barely type and look like pigs in blankets, the fat, weener-in-a-roll type)   

To sum up, Christmas day over here is pretty much the same with a few differences and twists, but the main part is that family come together and bless the 'fribbits' (another hubby word) out of each other while remembering how baby Jesus came to bless the 'fribbits' out of us. 

Merry Christmas y'all!!!  

Feeling broody

I was asked by new friends if Hubby and I would be having children soon. I replied 'not for a couple of years, but I do get broody.' They looked at me in confusion. 'Broody?' I replied 'yeah, like a chicken. I'm ready to lay some eggs.'

This is a phrase used a lot by women in Britain to mean 'having a strong desire to have a baby'. It is a term likened to hens to explain their behaviour when ready to lay eggs, so basically when a Brit uses it she means 'I'm ready to fluff up my feathers and incubate some eggs!'

Queso

Queso is a warm, cheesy, Tex-Mex dip for chips (aka crisps). It is very popular over here and I am a rather enormous fan. 

Hubby asked me to make some one evening, so I Googled a recipe and headed to Walmart for the ingredients, which included Monterey Jack cheese, Colby Jack cheese and jalapeños. Meticulously, I combined all the ingredients in a pan and stirred and stirred. Unfortunately, the recipe told me to whisk flour into the mixture as a thickener, but, it being our second-ish week of Newly-wedded bliss, we did not own one, so I improvised with a fork. The end result was the right colour but it seemed to have a runnier consistency than Quesos I had tried before. 

Hubby came home full of excitement to try the home-made Queso and I optimistically offered him a dipped chip. He took one bite, frowned, told me it tasted like dust, and bought two pre-made jars from Walmart. 

Two things I learned from this fiasco:

1. A fork is NOT a substitute for a whisk (Hubby also bought me one of those pretty quickly)

2. A far easier method of making Queso is to buy Velveeta (aka fake cheese) and mix it with diced tomatoes and green chiles. 

(Ironically, while gathering my flawed ingredients from Walmart I saw tons of Velveeta boxes EVERYWHERE, including three in the arms of the shopper in front of me at the till. And it was on offer. I think God was trying to make it easy for me)

Do we do this in England???

The White Elephant present game is like Secret Santa but you don't buy for anyone in particular. There is normally a theme for the gifts - at our church Christmas party it was 'useful and/or unusual'. Everyone places their gifts in the centre and takes a number. Participants can either select a gift from the centre when their number is called or 'steal' from someone else (it can get messy!). If a gift is stolen twice, it becomes locked, so if you're a couple you can use tactics, which is how the hubby and I landed a Phil Wickham Christmas album - boosh! Our other gift was a VHS entitled 'Tough Questions about Sex' circa 1970 (from the look of the creepy host on the cover). Trust the newly-weds to land that one! I went a rather festive colour. 

Other gifts included tortilla warmers, Poopourri (a spray for the toilet bowl that acts as a scented film - anything with an offensive odour that plops through will be immediately disguised. They also come in handy handbag size. I'm not sure if this is genius or weird), s'more forks ( I had my first one at a cook-out a few weeks back and they definitely leave you wanting s'more), pen knives, coco cola glasses and a cello-tape dispenser in the form of a blue man on a toilet (of course! A teacher claimed that one rather quickly).

To conclude our American style Christmas party, we played a festive game of Jeopardy which our community group won, even though I didn't know that eggnog originated from England - I said Germany rather confidently and then hid my face in shame. 

   

A Christmas gift from Lupe and her husband Eligio

A poinsettia! Or 'Feliz Navidad' in Spanish. Don't worry, I realised it wasn't an edible gift this time, and no, I didn't learn that from trying. 

A great British pastime...

Baking mince pies at Christmas!!!

Mince pies are little cups of pastry filled with mince meat, which, contrary to what it suggests, is not beef or lamb. In fact, these little cups of joy are sweet and filled with raisins, suet, currants, peel, apple and mixed spices, including cinnamon, coriander, dill, fennel, cloves, ginger and nutmeg (can you tell I'm reading this off a jar label?!) There are some great recipes for making home-made mince meat, but it is a long process and suet is pretty impossible to find over here (apart form at the British Emporium, but then you have to pay an arm and a leg to get it). So I bought my jar and asked the experts, aka my mum and nanna, how best to make the pastry. They gave me the following recipes to try:  


1lb (2 cups) plain flour,

2tsp mixed spice (optional) 8oz (1 cup) butter 3tbsp icing (powdered) sugar 3 egg yolks, beaten

Sift flour and spice and rub in butter until it resembles fine breadcrumbs. Stir in icing sugar, egg yolks and 3tblsp cold water. Knead to a soft dough. Chill for 15mins before rolling out. Fill with mincemeat, cover with dampened lids. Brush with egg white. Freeze for 30mins, then pop in oven @ 375f for 20 mins. Dust with icing sugar to serve.

OR

10oz margarine 4oz castor sugar 4tblsp beaten egg 1lb plain flour sifted with a pinch each of bicarbonate of soda and salt.

Cream the margarine and castor sugar. Gradually add the beaten egg. Gradually work in the sifted dry ingredients to make a soft dough. Wrap and chill until firm. Bake mince pies for 15 mins @ 400f, then brush with egg and sprinkle with castor sugar. Return to oven for a further 2-3 mins.

A little tip from me to you: make sure you own a rolling-pin before attempting to make pastry. I won't tell you what I used, but it was interesting.

Of course, while making mince pies you should find your favourite Christmas album and crank it up, unless you're me who re-discovers the best of Hanson and gets distracted by Hmmm-bopping and wanting to know the answer to 'Where's the Love?'

When your mince pies are ready, serve warm (you can re-heat them in the oven on a low temp) and with brandy butter (if you want to be very British) or cream.

A shocking discovery...

I have discovered that within one straight mile of my apartment there are five fast food restaurants: Burger King, Whataburger (the husbands not so secret guilty pleasure - having a joint bank account, I always catch him out), Popeye's Chicken and Biscuits, MacDonalds (of course) and Wendy's. There is also a Starbucks and a drive-thru Seattle Coffee Company. So many and so much choice! It makes me want to buy grapes and work-out.

Oh the weather outside is frightful!!!!

Texas has the most unpredictable weather! 

On Thursday I was wearing shorts, basking in glorious sunshine at Grapevine and watching this hard working and enthusiastic American earn his wages:

One day later, I was walking to the gym in my winter coat with furry hood up and watching ice rain down in the evening.

Two days later we woke up in Narnia. 

To the excited children of Dallas (bless them, they don't see snow often) it looked like a winter wonderland until they ran outside, slipped on their bums and realised that throwing ice balls instead of snow balls isn't that much fun. 

On the first day, we stayed in, tucked up warm, eating food, watching Lost and, because of the latter, feeling thoroughly confused. On the second day, it took us forty five minutes to de-ice the car with no scraper, no de-icer, no heated windscreens and no gloves (cue me complaining that I'd left all my winter gear in England because I was advised that I wouldn't need it - pah!). We then proceeded to drive on an ice rink of death and pretend we were in an armageddon film. As we drove, we passed enormous branches laying on the roadside that has snapped from trees due to the big freeze. Today, the ice has started to thaw and crash dangerously to the ground from roofs in slabs. 

  What is going on Texas, you crazy boof?! I bet 100% I'll be back in shorts before the year is out. 

The British Emporium

I have discovered how to get my fix of Britain right here in the heart of Texas. 

I don't need to spend $1000 dollars on a flight, oh no my friend. I need only to travel 20 minutes up the road to a heavenly place called the British Emporium, run by Sylvia (who has, incidentally, kept her clipped British accent after 20 years of living here, whereas I find myself accused by my sister over Skype as sounding American already after a pitiful month. I am an accent chameleon. I once spent an entire flight from Australia to England chatting to the person next to me who, at the end of the journey, enquired as to which part of Australia I was from. I'd been there 2 weeks). 

The shop is cramped with narrow isles (a dedication to British roads), and FULL of British treats. At the moment, it is Christmas land for me, with mince pies, brandy butter, Christmas pudding, Cadbury's chocolate box selections, clotted cream fudge, mulled wine, shortbread, stinky cheese (the mouldier the better) and crackers (pulling a cracker at the Christmas table and wearing jolly paper hats is not done here...give me time...). Apart from food products, there were other necessities for a Brit living abroad: Pears soap, Savlon (?!), Doctor Who memorabilia (of course), teapots and mugs sporting every single icon associated with Britain. By the time I left with my goods I was all for purchasing a Union Jack flag (they sold them by the door) and singing God Save the Queen (I think my mother-in-law would have been slightly mortified). As it was, I left with a polite 'Cheerio and thank you'. 

My purchases included: 

...to have on my...

 

(I made my mother-in-law try one with Marmite on it. Let's just say she was not a fan. In fact, I have yet to find anyone over here that is. It is my mission. I shall carry my Marmite wherever I go and find a fellow lover)

...the best jam EVER (Christmas flavour - who care's what's in it!!! It could be Reindeer for all I know, but it's just so darn good!) and brandy butter to accompany the mince pies I will be making with a jar of mincemeat that I also purchased.

I also grabbed two Cornish pasties which we will be having for tea in 15 minutes. I researched Cornish pasties (as you do) and found out that tin miners used to eat them because it formed a complete meal without the need for cutlery and the thick pastry kept the food inside warm for a long time. AND apparently they used to hold the pasty along the crusted edge with their dirty, arsenic covered fingers which they later threw away to prevent themselves form getting a tummy ache or, you know, dying. Of course this may all be myth. 

Here is a picture of our Cornish pasties:

They contain beef, swede (or 'rutabaga' over here - I know, great word!), potato and onions. Yum!

Fact

Walmart's apples are the size of a baby's head. I had to take a rest half way through! 

Seagulls

Our alarm is the sound of seagulls. A strange one, some may say, but for me, it reminds me of English holidays. Living in Dallas, we are MILES from the coast, and I really feel that I no longer live on an island. Wherever you are in England, you can drive to the seaside and back for an afternoon out, so seagulls can be spotted in every city, town and village. It may come as a surprise to many Brits that I long for the squawking, obnoxious call of seagulls. I even miss their incredible ability to steal an entire ice cream cone from the hands of an unsuspecting holiday maker (witnessed first hand on Brighton Pier - the poor lady screamed and fell to the ground), and their precision when plucking a chip (french fry) from the air that has been tossed by a rare gull lover. It's a simple truth - when something from the background hum to your life is gone, you miss it.

Imagine my surprise and sheer joy then when I walked across Walmart's car-park and heard the sweet squawk of a gull! I stopped, turned and gazed up at the bird sitting on top of a lamp post. It was a beautiful moment, but I do think the poor bugger was lost.   

The Tomato Capital Y’all

This is a piece I included in my dissertation for my Masters in Creative Writing. It's based on an experience I had in Texas during my first visit almost one year ago, and one of the moments I discovered how 'freakin legit' (as my husband would say) Texas is! 

Jacksonville, Texas, home of the largest bowl of salsa and the best dang Texas barbeque you’re ever likely to get.

I bit into my beef steak burger at Jacksonville Joe’s. As I chewed, I was aware that every set of eyes at the table was fixed on me, awaiting my response.

‘It’s good,’ I garbled through my mouthful, then took another and smiled to confirm. Outside, a concrete tomato weighing 665 pounds and sporting a patched up ‘boo-boo’ grinned at me. I grinned back, reminded of the small town’s status as the Tomato Capital of the World. In celebration, 235 concrete tomatoes had been commissioned, each decorated with its own unique flare and character.

The walls of Joe’s were littered with scrawled names and ‘I was here’ phrases. I was asked to leave my mark, making sure to write where I was from too so that everyone would know that an English girl had sampled the cuisine. When I was directed to a section of the wall designated to my elderly host’s family, I felt a warm surge of affection for the people of Jacksonville. 

I took another bite of my burger, feeling a glob of salsa escape the bun and drop onto my chin. I reached for my napkin to remove it when a booming southern voice called across the cafe.

‘Is there a lady from England in here?’

I turned in response, my mouth full and the salsa still sat on my chin.

‘Hello,’ I managed through the beef.

Three of my companions at the table who were local to Jacksonville acknowledged the large man as the Senator and dipped their heads respectfully. I cringed and cursed at my incessant need to tear large chunks from my food.    

The Senator shook my hand and asked if I had signed the wall.

This must be what fame feels like, I thought as I sucked the last string of beef from my teeth.

From the corner of my eye I could see the rapid rise and fall of my fiancé’s shoulders as he tried to supress his amusement at the situation. I ignored him and gazed up at the Senator with my best English-rose smile. This must have won him over, as in the next breath I had an invitation to see his Long Horn Cattle. My fiancé stopped laughing abruptly and choked on his coke.  

Bits and Bobs

Hubby asked where his wallet was yesterday. I told him it was in the bits and bobs drawer. After lots of opening and closing doors, looking in corners and under the bed, it was clear he had no idea what I had just said. #language barrier (I apologise for hash tagging, it will never happen again)