Coffee, tea or something else - what do you choose? - Kandy Shepherd

Recently I shared on social media a photo of a yummy Coffee and Walnut Cake I’d baked. I confessed I don’t actually like coffee as a drink—but I do like the flavour in cakes and ice-cream. I was surprised when I had comments from people who felt the same about coffee.  It’s always nice to meet a fellow non-coffee drinker who, it seems to me, are quite a rare breed.

No coffee or tea for me - but coffee cake will do just fine!

It’s even rarer to meet someone like me who not only doesn’t like tea or coffee but also because I don’t drink alcohol. Not for any religious or health or sobriety reasons—I simply don’t like the taste. Never have, doubt I ever will.

Mmm! I love the aroma, just not the taste of coffee!

 My mother told me I was anti-social because I didn’t drink tea (I come from a family who love their tea). Ordinary tea, herbal tea, iced tea—not for me. While I adore the smell of coffee beans and percolating coffee—I just can’t drink it. 

When I was younger, barmen would see me as a challenge, lining free alcoholic drink after free drink on the bar to find something I’d like. I’d take a sip and pass. Whichever companion I had with me at the time would eventually fall off his barstool as a result of slurping up all the drinks I’d disdained.

I was a challenge to a barman!

Some people think I’m weird because I don’t drink tea, coffee or alcohol in a world where most people do. It doesn’t bother me. I manage quite okay without any of those drinks. And when I meet someone else with the same tastes as I am, we fall upon each other in sudden camaraderie  as it doesn’t happen very often. 

I have to be careful with fruit juices because of the possibility of migraine-inducing preservatives. My choice is freshly squeezed but not all juices advertised as “freshly squeezed” are actually so. 

So what do I drink? Water, lots of water—still, sparkling or from the tap. Fortunately, I really like water! But before you dismiss me as too goody-two-shoes to be true, I also drink Diet Coke—lots  of Diet Coke. No other cola, just that type. Well, lots and lots while I’m on deadline like right now with my next book for Harlequin Romance. Otherwise, aware of the evil reputation of artificial sweeteners and other artificial stuff in a black, no-food-value drink, I try to cut down on it. But oh-how-boring it can be to just drink water!

My tipple of choice.

What about you? What’s your favourite beverage? One you love to hate? If there are any other non-tea or coffee or non-alcohol drinkers, please say hello! I’d love to see your comments.

PS: The cake is a recipe by Nigella Lawson, I made an extra layer. Here's the link:
https://www.nigella.com/recipes/coffee-and-walnut-layer-cake?offset=48

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

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Yesterday was my birthday.

Yes, thank you, thank you.  I am rather chuffed to have survived another year without falling down stairs, or overindulging on M&Ms – both high up on the possible ways I will one day meet my demise.

It is strange how we do that, don't you think? Tick off (or count down) the number of time we’ve revolved around the sun.  I think so.  But fun strange.  A strange I can get on board with.

I don't actually mind the 'getting a year older' thing. It's good being my age, in fact.  I remember being told in my twenties that the older you get the less you give a hoot what others think and its true.  It's brilliant, in fact!  It leaves more room for being in awe of all that you've have, all that you've done, all that you am.

So for all that, I do love a birthday.  Mine or anyone else’s.  Any chance to indulge in a little giddy delight, I say.  To watch someone, anyone, blush and shine under the smiley attention of people who care about them is as close to bliss as it comes.  As much of that as possible please.

As a mum the biggest lashing of smiley attention comes from my kids.  The cake they’ve decorated so thoughtfully (using dark chocolate buttons for me even though white chocolate is their favourite).  The home-made cards (You are the best mum in the world because you hugged me while watching the last Harry Potter even though you cried and I didn’t.)  The thoughtful gifts (not one ruler but two!  Because I love stationery that much.

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It’s funny too how truly I love those rulers.  As a kid, my ‘birthday list’ could fill an A4 page. 

Now there’s not much I wish and hope for that comes from a shop.  (Except the beautiful garden swing chair my hubby got for me. Talk about bliss.)

As for a party?  Nope.  No.  Not for me.  A terrible host (like really awful, if you ever come to mine please feel free to help yourself to some water as I will be too busy chatting to think to offer it) I’ve never hosted a birthday party for myself.  EVER.  A tradition I’m happy to continue.

But again, taking any chance I can do indulge in giddy delight, my latest revolution around the sun will be marked.  I’ll take up the babysitting offer and go to the movies with my hubby tonight.  I’ll drag my babies to the city for a day of exploring this weekend, delighting in their chatter and energy and bright lovely faces as we make memories together.  And the Max Brenner for dinner tradition I started last year? That might be a keeper too.

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Do you have any birthday traditions?  Throw a massive party in celebration? Balloons, cake, pass the parcel? Hide away and lament the passing time? Light a fire, strip down, howl at the moon? Book yourself into a spa in an effort to halt time just a little?

In need of chocolate – Kandy Shepherd

Deep in the writer's cave, locked away in a desperate attempt to meet a deadline for my next novel, can you imagine my joy in finding at the very back of the fridge a bar of chocolate I didn’t know existed.

Milk chocolate with almonds—perfect food to fuel a deadline frenzy. I found it quite by chance, hunting for the remains of a chocolate Easter bunny—I’d thought I had at least one chocolate ear left.

The toothsome treat was, no doubt, hidden by someone in my family. So sorry, family. I’ll replace it when the manuscript is delivered to my endlessly patient editor and I emerge from that dark cave. The replacement bar will be safe then, as I will certainly be on a healthy eating and exercise regime to make up for those weeks sitting in that cave. (Or attempting to, anyway.)

What I found hidden in my fridge - sadly, not much left!

You get hungry and lonely in depths of the writer’s cave. There is only the company of imaginary friends. The need for comfort food is real. Of course, writers cannot live on chocolate alone. When I have turned away those who would mess with my muse, ie, my family, (which means I have no one to cook for me in my time of need) I have a few staples I turn to. One is a big pot of chicken and vegetable soup I cook up and live off for days.

It’s a soup very much like the one my mother used to make for me in times of stress—so there is most likely some psychological element to its nourishment. There is no recipe to share with you. It's a matter of just throwing everything into the saucepan.

I was a sickly child who suffered from recurring sinus and chest infections. When I was too unwell for even the soup, my mother would tempt my appetite (which never needs tempting these days, it's more in need of taming) with fresh white bread-and-butter with honey, cut into tiny triangles. When I would accept that, she’d know I was on the mend. Sadly, it never tasted the same when anyone but my mother made it…

I've run out of chicken soup and it's a long way to the shops from my mountain retreat. So tonight, to power the many words I need still to write, I made a pumpkin soup—a favourite of many of us Down Under. I stirred through it the very last of the zucchini from my garden, picked at that tender, fingerling stage. Then served it with brown rice (pre-cooked in a packet) and a blob of home-made pesto. It gave me the energy to write this post. And the good thing is there’s enough left for tomorrow and maybe even the next day.

My quick-fix pumpkin soup

Another somewhat decadent comfort food is something our family simply calls "The Slice". Indulging in it is reserved for special occasions, such as birthdays, as it is disgracefully rich in butter and condensed milk. But I am refusing to give in to the temptation to make a batch. I would have to crawl out of my cave for too long to make it. Just another reason I was so delighted to find that bar of chocolate.

My dietitian-in-training daughter does not approve of sugar hits for desperate writers nearing deadline. She does, however, tell me that the creative process of writing uses up a lot of energy and I need carbohydrate to fuel me. That does not mean chocolate. She approves of the almonds because they are a good source of protein and other nutrients. So I’m doing something right.

Now I’m craving baked beans on toast with fried tomatoes and bacon—something I only ever eat in the cave. Trouble is I don’t have any bacon. Or, for that matter, any baked beans. Only chocolate and pumpkin soup.

Do you have a favourite comfort food you turn to in times of deadlines and stress? I'd love to hear about it!