Life is NOT like a Noodle Stir Fry. Stir Fry is Much Simpler.

Well, I woke up this morning and guess what? It was March. Time is going by at a pace. I am actually dreading this fleeting passage of time, only because this dissertation thing is a nightmare. All the decisions are also a nightmare. Why can't life be as simple as a noodle stir fry! Speaking of which...

I had really been in the mood for some stir fry. I crave the weirdest things at the most random times. So during my weekly Tesco run on Friday, I got everything I would have needed for a home-made noodle stir fry.

I got some pork, cause I love pork and it was cheap. Added my regular seasonings - garlic, onions, green seasoning, ginger, black pepper, salt, coriander. It looks good doesn't it? I had done this on Saturday so it could marinate over the weekend and soak up all the herby goodness. Of course you put it back in the fridge.

Pork marinating...

Then today I took it out and first pan fried it in a non-stick pan with a splash of EVOO. Pork is already a fatty type of meat. You don't need a lot.

Pork searing...

After pan frying on light heat for about 5 minutes - and it is really to give it some colour - I chucked it into an sturdy pan with a sturdy cover and chucked it all in the oven on a low heat for a couple hours. I continued doing my assignment while that did its oinky thing.

Then 2 hours later, I re-emerged and got started on my noodles. Added some egg noodles to boiling water, and let it cook for 3 minutes before draining. They taste good just like that too.

Noodles draining...

Then I got my veggies ready which involved me tearing the pack open. Gotta love ready-made stir fry noodles. At home I would have to cut this crap up myself if Hi-Lo was out, which was regularly.

Veggies waiting...

A bit of EVOO in the pot, and I added some pre-cut onions first, before dashing the veggies in. I also seasoned said onions with a bit of ginger and black pepper and a splash of soy sauce. Then I added my veggies and some oyster and garlic stir fry sauce.

Veggies stir frying...

Then came my noodles, salt to taste and it was done. The pork - out of the oven, and then I took some of the stock, added a splash of coconut milk powder, some ginger, garlic, parsley and about a 2tbsps of orange juice (sounds weird but it is really delicious) and reduced all that til the thickness was right for me. Add that to my pork and lunch was ready.

Mouth watering...

No white wine cause I am doing research and I am so fat it sucks. I don't like myself right now. I am in the "not liking myself time of the quarter". It usually coincides with when I need an eyebrow wax, or as in London, an eyebrow threading, and a salon job. Add puffy cheeks and a face as round as a full moon and I am a hot mess.

Tomorrow - the crap eating ends. I have a danish I need to dispose of today.

Read more »

"Accept Your Destiny" and other Friday moments

Me - the killer of romantic dreams

I guess you want to know what my title is all about. Well, most of you know I seem to attract the nutters of the universe. Most of you also know that I seem to attract the Nigerians of London. You also know I am not a fan of Nigerian men. Too aggressive. Too annoying.

Today.

Get on the train to Tesco. Dude staring at me like I am a piece of sausage. Avert my annoyed gaze before I burn a hole into his skull. Get off the train. Go to the store. Lo and behold, look who followed me in. I say nothing. Pasta aisle. Bread aisle. Me - feeling up some bagels. Suddenly.  Next to me - Mr Special.

"My sister, we were on the train togeda".

Nothing makes my blood boil more than this my sister dotishness. I don't care if it's sista or sister - it's annoying. And what? Because I shared a train ride with you, you must follow me? WTF! I was NOT impressed. My response? "So?" and a bad Trini cut eye. My brother got the message and he was gone.

So I text my friend, Nicole, and she replies with no sympathy

Accept your destiny! LOL.
The other winning moments/thoughts of today

On the train  to Waterloo, I had the misfortune of sitting in the cabin with the chatty teenagers and worse, the bawling baby. I always seem to end up in the cab with the noisiest passengers, hence the reason I walk with my music at all times. But let me now adjust my description of this child. He was not just bawling...he was a bleedin' nightmare. The child, no lie, was straight out of The Exorcist. This child could not have been more than 2 years old, and he was bawling at the very top of his lungs, then he started slapping himself. This continued for about 15 minutes without any signs that this child was going to stop. I felt sorry for the mother, who tried everything - toys, food, soft talk. Nothing. I was wondering if anyone else was annoyed by this Child of Chucky because noone seemed to be perturbed as I certainly was. Until...

This no older than 2 year old child said "F... You" to his mother. I thought I had heard wrong but then I saw the woman in the corner rise from her seat, then the granny on the other side, then the man in front of me and the chatty teenagers' eyes opened wide like two saucers. I turned around to see the red-faced, self-mutilated little boy still bawling and all the eyes in the cabin on an equally red-faced mother. I could not believe it. The Exorcist was an understatement. This child was posssessed. Clearly he hears the profanity from somewhere but to use it like that was really shocking to me.

Then, with the exception of myself and my Trini friends and Cat, do all black women in London wear weaves? Oh.My.God. I got on the train first to London Victoria and then to my Tesco and then the bus to my house, and there was an assortment of fake hair surrounding me. Not saying Trini women do not wear weaves, but the proliferation of the bag-hair in this city is mind boggling to me. Somewhere in London, there is a group of black hairdressers making a killing off false pride and vanity. Hairlines across London are in dire straits from the strain of Indian Remy hair on the scalps of black women.

Then, before heading to Tesco, I needed to use the bathroom desperately. After my stunning lunch, with my equally stunning lunch date, and the huge cup of coffee I had afterwards, my bladder could not take the stress and I was forced to use...wait for it...a train station loo. I did not know WHAT I was gonna meet, but I certainly did not expect to meet a toilet wrapped in caution tape. I kid you not. CAUTION TAPE. If that does not tell you something....lol.

And as an aside, lunch was awesome. :-)

Read more »

Say No to Shopping in Pyjamas!



Shopping in pyjamas - UNACCEPTABLE
Photo credit: BBC

By the way, I have finally dusted the cobwebs off my @trininista twitter handle so follow me! Link to the left!

So...after my lunch date, I idled around a bit and then got my train and decided I needed a few things at Sainsbury's. I was almost out of bagels, and it was to be a quick stop - in and out. Now, there is a phenomenon here which really gets me. It affects me deeply. It rattles me to the core as a woman, as a person, as someone who takes more than 5 minutes to fix myself before venturing out into the public domain.

Shopping in pyjamas.

As I walked through the supermarket, looking for my bagels, I walked into a woman, in full sleep wear. To make matters worse, she was wearing the awful Primark jammies I have seen on many a visit to the famed store. I could not believe it. If this was a fashion statement, it was a highly negative one. Who on earth would want to be seen in public in their pyjamas? At 5.30pm. It is both unsightly and reeks of low self esteem. Not only was she in her pyjamas, but it looked like she had literally just rolled off the bed - nasty, bed hair and a face that looked devoid of energy. And it's not just wearing say the pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt. I could maybe, depending on the bottoms, excuse this (this is a really strong maybe). But girlfriend was in the full set - pyjama bottoms, pyjama top - an awful multicoloured get up, completed by socks and slippers.

I have run out of the house in my pyjamas once - but 1) just the bottoms which are a solid black, 2) it was 9pm, 3) I wore a t-shirt and a hoodie and proper shoes. Not the full pyjama ensemble with my bunny slippers and a do-rag!

Acceptable grocery shopping fashion

I don't carrrrrrrrrrrre how tired you are, miss. You can change into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Now in Trinidad, some women take this supermarket thing to new levels. My own personal supermarket mode of dress - jeans, a baby tee, flip flops. A dab of mascara cause my mascara goes with me everywhere. But there are supermarketnistas back home who, for want of a better analogy, use the food aisles as catwalks. Heels, tight jeans, loads of makeup, blown out hair, dangly earrings. To each her own, but in my experience, the supermarket dating pool is rather bleak. The meat boys appreciate it for sure, and the hungry husbands tagging along with wifey, and granted there are the occasional single stunners, but generally - Trini supermarkets are not like the supermarkets on tv. You don't meet the man of your dreams while squeezing tomatoes or looking at bags of carrots. It just does not happen - or at least it has never happened to me. Whether I am going to the wrong Hi-Lo or at the wrong times may be up for debate, but the full fashion attack is really, in my opinion, not necessary.

This is an option if you're on the prowl
for more than bagels and pasta. lol

However, a shower, application of a toothpaste covered toothbrush to the mouth, a quick brush to the hair or a head scarf, and maybe some lip gloss if you wanna stretch it, are just essential. C'mon ladies. Pyjamas are bed wear. It is nasty to me. It means you slept all night, or did God knows what, and have come to stand next to me, with your unwashed body, touching my tomatoes. Can we make a ribbon in support of no pyjama shopping? lol.

What was even more alarming was this report by the BBC. I was innocently looking for a Google'd photo of a pyjama clad shopper to include in the post and found that this atrocious practice is widespread -so much so that the frickin' BBC has an entire article on it. And the Daily Mail! An excerpt, which was ALARMING to say the least -

A Tesco store has asked customers not to shop in their pyjamas or barefoot. Notices have been put up in the chain's supermarket in St Mellons in Cardiff saying: "Footwear must be worn at all times and no nightwear is permitted."
A spokesman said Tesco did not have a strict dress code but it did not want people shopping in their nightwear in case it offended other customers. (BBC)

I cannot believe a supermarket had to actually waste ink to make a sign asking people to dress and wear shoes to come to the supermarket. Unreal. Please. It does offend me. It does. Don't do it. Whether it is a quick pop in for cigarettes or an hour long outing for groceries - leave the pyjamas in the bedroom and make yourself seemly. I mean, have a little consideration for your appearance and the fact that you just never know who you may meet - even doing the most random things, like squeezing tomatoes. My motto is - always try to look presentable when out. You don't have to look like a top model, but look like you care about your appearance at least. And if you need a real life account of why this is important, then let me tell you how I roll on a normal Saturday in my neighbourhood Hi-Lo back in Trinidad.

Read more »

Trininista takes on the World - one issue at a time

I went to Tesco today, as opposed to Sainsbury's to get some rations for the week. There is a full "ethnic" section in my local Tesco, with stuff I don't always find in Sainsbury's. However, my grouse today, and this is not against Tesco at all, but a clear indictment of Trinidad and Tobago's manufacturing industry -

Why are all the Caribbean products from Jamaica?

I was really annoyed by this and this, again, is nothing against Tesco and nothing against Jamaica. In fact, kudos to Jamaica for making their presence felt. I could get their awful tasteless crackers as opposed to a bag of yummy Crix...

Whole wheat Crix trumps the competition in my opinion

...their seasoning which I don't like the taste of, as opposed to a bottle of Mabel's green seasoning; their hard dough bread, which I actually do like but I rarely eat white bread nowadays. I am really disappointed T&T. Really unimpressed. Is it any wonder why people think Trinidad is a town in Jamaica? REALLY?


However, with my care package coming direct from South Trinidad via British Airways and one lovely lady, I now have proper seasoning, my fave soy milk so I was loving the cereal aisle once more and proper cold meds after the Great Flu of 2010 depleted my supply. But had I remembered, I would have asked mums to send me a huge block of New Zealand cheddar cheese. I have tried. I have given it a good shot. I really experimented with it. But...

I hate British cheddar cheese. I really do. I love cheese and though I have my select cheeses I have when sipping on a glass of wine on the weekend, they aren't cheap enough for the every day student life sandwiches, nor yummy enough. But ugh...British cheddar is gross. Every 2 weeks, at my neighbourhood Hi-Lo, I would buy a block of Anchor light cheddar cheese. It's just the best cheese ever. A cheese sandwich here is just not the same. Macaroni pie is not the same. It's probably for the best - a few calories less. But I would kill for a block of NZ cheddar right about now. My first macaroni pie attempt here in London was not too shabby, considering it was a three-cheese pie because using British cheddar alone would have killed it. The Red Leicester topping gave it an awesome colour. The third cheese, if you want to count it, came from the fact that half of the pie was made from a box of Kraft Mac 'n' Cheese - so American sharp cheddar? lol. It's great!

Macaroni pie. Yummers.

Come to think of it, I had cheese issues in Jamaica as well. I always took my cheese with me from home because the idea of cheese in a tin was odd to me. What was odder was the fact that the cheese did not melt. I mean, you put that crap in the oven and unlike regular, normal cheese, this stuff did not really get gooey and stringy under heat. How could I eat that?

And as I am talking about national differences, from product placement to cheese, just a quick note on language as well. A man today told me I did not sound like a Trini. I am not sure which Trini he was comparing me to but I can assure you, my accent is very Trini. This is the thing - we all don't sound the same, buddy. Depending on where you live and your education, your accent is bound to be a bit different. This is not rocket science. All Brits don't sound the same either. My Greek professor pointed this out earlier this week when someone said the word "computer" as "compu-ah". He was a bit flabbergasted in that way he gets flabbergasted. I thought it was hilarious because though not sure how that accent would be classified by location, the omission of the "t" sound here in the land of English, is a great source of amusement for me.

Boh-uhl - bottle
Wha - what
Keh-uhl - kettle
Compu-ah - computer

Hilarious. Jamaicans have swapped the "h" sounds so that where there is an "h", there is no sound, and where there is no "h", there is the sound.

Onda - Honda
Hunder - under

Trinis often use the word "does" where it does not need to be, and they know better but it's part of the dialect.

I does tell him - I tell him
I does do it - I do it

But not all Brits say compu-ah, not all Jamaicans do weird things with the letter "h" and not all Trinis use double verbs. So when this bright and farse man tells me today I do not sound like a Trini, and mind you, he is not a Trini, I had to ask him when was the last time he went to Trinidad. This was in direct contrast to the Bajan lady in the poultry and meat aisle who asked me something about the price of a pack of wings and upon hearing my accent - "You from Trinidad? You would know that accent anywhere, girl".

Silly man.

Read more »