HOORAY FOR CASUAL FRIDAY

Today is Friday. 

 

In most offices around the world, Fridays mean people can dress casually to work.  I, personally, have never been a fan of the casual Friday policy and for my staff, I revoke this privilege.

 

My dislike is not for the phony employee work-spirit reasons behind the policy, it is for the people who take advantage of the "casual" part.

 

Over the years I have seen flip flops with cut off jean shorts, striped socks worn over acid washed jeans (and this was not in the 80s, folks), tank tops and hot pants.  What threw me over the edge was when I noticed people wearing sweat pants with old t-shirts and uncombed hair… obviously still in their pajamas.

 

You might be thinking, "So what?"

 

If that is what you are thinking, you are obviously one of those people who wear your pajamas to work.  To which I ask "Are you a professional pajama. model for K-Mart?"

 

If you answered 'yes', then you may have a martini. 

 

If you answered 'no' then I have these words of wisdom:

 

When you walk through the office door and think you can pass your sweats off as legitimate day wear… you would be wrong!

 

Honey, when your sweatshirt has images of Winnie the Pooh holing a blanket…  THOSE ARE YOUR PAJAMAS!!!

 

When your pants have pink cupcakes on them and are made from flannel… THOSE ARE YOUR PAJAMAS!!!!!!

 

If your skirt has a border of marabou feathers… THOSE ARE YOUR PAJAMAS!!

 

If your overcoat has an uncanny resemblance to a blanket with arm holes… THOSE ARE YOUR PAJAMAS!!!

 

And babycakes, I have never heard of power suit pajamas.

 

Now you might be thinking "It is obviously that time of the month for Hula Hank."

 

To which I respond, "You are right, it is that time of the month… The time of the month to get some new clothes."

 

To which you reply "Now it all makes sense, you are obviously upset because you are tired of all the clothes in your closet and are left with only pajamas to wear."

 

To which I respond, "You are cut off of the martinis."

 

To which you reply "So what is the matter Hula Hank? What is with your rant on the power suit pajama wearers in the world?... and get to the point, this post is long and boring and I need to be drunk just to have read this far."

 

To which I respond, I have always worked in jobs which require public and media interaction, sometimes unexpected. 

 

One day, several years ago, comfortably dressed in a black turtle neck and natural hair do, I arrived at the office straight from a cross country red-eye flight.  I was in my airplane pajamas.

 

That very same day not one, not two, but three local TV stations all had to have on-camera interviews with me regarding an incident that happened overnight.

 

You are thinking, "Stop being so prissy and go home and change into a beautiful suit."

 

What I failed to mention is when I arrived at the office they were already waiting at the door and my airplane pajamas were broadcast on the 5 o'clock news.

 

Additionally, what if I was to die that day?  Do I want to die wearing my airplane pajamas at work?  The last image of me being one of uncombed hair and an old black turtle neck sweater? 

 

I think not. 

 

From that day on, I only wear suits and ties with all the proper accoutrement (ie man bling) and perfectly polished shoes. My casual Friday means not wearing a jacket.

 

However, today, in the middle of a meeting I noticed that one half of the front of my perfectly pressed shirt is still wrinkled. There is also small hole on the shoulder.

 

So today I thought, "What is the point?"

 

I would have looked better in my pajamas… and I don't wear pajamas.

 

Who wants a martini?

 

---

Find your next place with Ninemsn property Looking for a place to rent, share or buy this winter?

IT'S 7:00AM. DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOUR PERKINESS IS?

Have you ever been to a 7:00am meeting that begins by toasting the Queen (of Australia, not Phrump, although technically they did not specify which Queen)followed by a group sing-a-long of Yellow Submarine?

No? Well that is what I did this morning.

How about you?

DEAR ________, DAY 2

Dear Everyone,

Well I burnt/burned the scones. Never fear whilst I was in the kitchen I whipped up some chilli/chili mussels instead. Chilli/chili mussels are not quite as good with apple butter as scones are, but have another bellini... it won't matter.


Dear Mom #1,

What exactly is an 'apple smoke'? Is it what I am thinking it is which I may or may not have done in my wild teenage days?

Vegemite is the vilest spread I have ever tasted. It is actually made from discarded yeast extract used in making beer. I have never met anyone that wasn’t Australian born and raised who will even give it a sample taste.

Australians claim that Americans don’t like it because we use too much when spreading it on toast. They claim only a minuscule amount should be used. What they fail to realise/realize is that Americans (and every other country in the world) don’t like it because, in large or small quantities, that shit is rank.

Although I once had one too many bottles of wine and I developed a strange craving for a toasted Vegemite and cheese sandwich… and it was not bad. Though subsequent tastings have justified my original dislike.

To its credit, Vegemite is exceptionally high in the B vitamins and certain amino acids which, as we know, are essential in maintaining healthy brain function.

So maybe that 1 out of 3 was not eating their Vegemite?


Dear Grandma J,

You are seriously returning to nature in The Spa… Blogging naked, spotting Bambi and hosting ant parties in your bra! Before you know it you will grow a beard and start talking to armadillos.

As you stated, you may be the oldest blogger, but you are the most beautiful.

I tried my best to try and figure out how ice cream could possibly qualify as brain food, but I just can’t come up with anything… unless is it made with dark chocolate and topped with fresh berries (and no, strawberry syrup does not count).



Dear Mr Show,

What exactly is your issue with persimmons? They are delightful. Of course I am referring to the non-astringent variety that has edible skins and are chock full of sweetness. If I ever perfect this whole persimmon butter thing, I will send some to you in the post/mail and you will be totally won over.

This whole Martha Stewart phase that has been happening to me lately is just to balance out all of the butch things I have to do around the farm... or at least the supervision I do of the butch things.

When Stuart brought me home a surprise gift of a plaid flannel shirt, I new it had gone too far and I had to take drastic gay action with cocktails, cookbooks and kitchen tools.

I know you and Giancarlo must have some tools that would make any gay jealous... um, wait... I don't think that came out right.



Dear jambuku,


Did you remember to bring the lamingtons this time? When you start your WA road trip, are you still going to blog about finding socks? Or wait, have you left already?


Dear Everyone,

Next time I propose that we meet in Italy.

Love, Hula Hank XX

DEAR ________, DAY 1

Dear Everyone,

I am glad that everyone has gathered together once again to enjoy a drink (or three), have a chat and feel the love.

This time I received some inspiration from Pumpkin Delight and thought it would be nice to serve peach bellinis.

You can buy Bellini in a bottle, and I remember a Miami inspired club that opened up on the beautiful Cuyahoga River in Cleveland's industrial district (yes, the same river that once caught on fire). Bottled Bellini was the signature cocktail and on some wild nights, the bartender would pour it directly into your mouth.

But no, this bellini is not that Bellini. This bellini is made from Italian sparkling and white peach puree.

Put it down the hatch!


Dear Queen of Phrump,

Jackalopes! That is right. How could I be so silly? My dad grew up in the Montana and whenever he would return home from a trip out west, he would bring back postcards featuring a cowboy riding a gigantic jackalope…and Big Hunks, because you couldn’t buy Big Hunks where we lived.

The whole family would spend the next week gnawing at these giant candy bars. Eventually we would get sick of them and would find half gnawed bars stuck under the couch cushions, inside underwear drawers and even under a pillow or two.

Which brings me to your 14 carat cake….. I am intrigued and must have some immediately!

Did your mother pick up a jar of apple butter yet? It seems that apple butter is an item that we all forget about until something comes along to conjure up strong childhood memories.

Big Hunks, apple butter… why are all of my childhood memories of foodstuff?



Dear JLO,

Is Arizona that state that has all of the aliens and new age healing spots or is that New Mexico?

Whilst I was reading your previous comments on my possible overuse of the word “whilst”, I was thinking that whilst I do tend to use the word “whilst” in writing, I never actually say “whilst” in speech. I am not even sure I know 100% what ‘whilst’ means and even how to use ‘whilst’ in a sentence.

I reckon it is one of those weirdo British terms and spellings like using ‘spelt’ instead of ‘spelled’ or ‘spilt’ instead of ‘spilled’ or ‘learnt’ instead of ‘learned’ or ‘burnt’ instead of ‘burned’… ‘tyre’ instead of ‘tire’ or even more wacko, ‘aeroplane’ instead of ‘airplane’.

PS – Your skin looks so radiant. Did you get a facial?



Dear Pumpkin Delight,

Venice looks so magical. I hate using the word “magical” but I can’t think of any other way to describe it.. Fantastical? Opulent? Enchanting?

One can almost imagine Casanova riding the canals to the doors of all society women around town.

I am putting together a list of US to Aussie word translations. As I flip over the third notebook page of words, it is more complicated than I thought.

Does the list only include the different words for the same object? Does it continue on with words that are pronounced the same but spelled/spelt differently? Does go even further to contain words that are spelled/spelt the same but pronounced differently?

To get a rest from the mental spin that is the English language, I decided to experiment with another type of fruit butter, this time with persimmons.

I wish I could tell you that the results were an execution of culinary brilliance. Well, it did look and smell like someone was executed.

The problem was not in the fruit or the idea, it was with the, uh, execution.

I believed Stuart when he told me that if I put the slow cooker on ‘Auto’ I could leave it on overnight without the persimmons burning, because when the slow cooker is on ‘auto’ it can sense when something is going to burn and shuts off.

Uh-huh.

The next morning I was left with dried, burned and shriveled pieces of persimmon which were permanently glued to the pot with a sugary glaze the same consistency of that used to coat pottery... after it went through the kiln.

I am not going to give up though, I just need to get some more persimmons before they go out of season.

There is this great orchard around the corner where the guy sells fruit out of his barn… Do you think that is the country equivalent to getting acupuncture in the back of van?


Dear Everyone,

I am still working my way around the room... I keep getting sidetracked by an empty glass. I am going to take the scones out of the oven and will be right back with hot scones and fresh apple butter.

Love Hula Hank

GO TEAM HOT DOG!!!

To take a short break from 'Apple butter mania', I turn today's focus to a more important cause... not martinis or food or naked picnics in the grass.

I spend my career educating people on neuroplasticity and ways to keep our brain exercised and healthy in the hopes of delaying, or possibly preventing, Alzheimer's Disease, other forms of dementia and cognitive decline. Everyday I hear forever life changing stories of the effects of dementia.

These stories come from people who are carers for family members, watched their parents eventual dementia related death or even have been diagnosed with early on-set dementia. Think that dementia doesn't effect you?

With current statistics showing that 1 out of every 3 people over the age of 65 develop dementia, you better believe that it will effect you in one way or another.

Meet Team Hot Dog



'Perth'onality socialite, Sarah Swan
Blogger hunk extraordinaire, Hula Hank and;
Independent brand identity specialist, Julie Hill.


Team Hot Dog... three members.. chances are high that one of us will develop dementia in the future.

This frank and startling reality check is what inspired us to choose to raise money for Alzheimer's (Also, the fact that I work for AAWA may have had a little something to do with it).

You may be asking yourself, "What the hell is a Team Hot Dog?"

On 20 September 2009, my organistaion is hosting the state's first ever Memory Walk. The 2009 Memory Walk will raise much need funds for dementia public awareness, education and support for for families, carers and those how have dementia.

The three of us (Team Hot Dog) have created a "My Hero" page to raise money for this event. You can find it online here:

http://www.everydayhero.com.au/team_hot_dog


Ok, so what is with the "Hot Dog" part?

Well, if we exceed our target fundraising goal, Team Hot Dog pledges to complete the walk dressed as GIANT HOT DOGS!!!!!


That is right we will dress as GIANT HOT DOGS, if we exceed our fundraising goal. So tell everyone you know to stop by our Everyday Hero page to 'relish' us with your support and provide much needed help for Dementia Awareness.

YOU ASKED FOR IT - APPLE BUTTER RECIPE

Due to the popular demand, I hereby share with you an apple butter recipe you can make at home or during a block party. It is almost summer in the US, so you have plenty of time to plan and gather all the ingredients before October!

If you are in Australia, well, you are too late. The apple harvest has just finished for the season. The good news is that you have an entire year to plant apple trees, find a copper kettle and sew your very own bonnet.

If anyone happens to have a bunch of Pennsylvania Dutch people lying around, here is a traditional recipe from 1839.

“Cider for apple butter must be perfectly new from the press, and the sweeter and mellower the apples are of which it is made, the better will the apple butter be.

Boil the cider till reduced to one half its original quantity, and skim it well.

Do not use for this purpose an iron kettle, or the butter will be very dark, and if you use a brass or copper kettle, it must be scoured as clean and bright as possible, before you put the cider into it, and you must not suffer the butter to remain in it a minute longer than is actually necessary to prepare it, or it will imbibe a copperish taste that will render it not only unpleasant, but really unhealthy.

It is best to prepare it late in the fall, when the apples are quite mellow. Select those that have a fine flavor, and will cook tender; pare and quarter them from the cores, and boil them in the cider till perfectly soft, having plenty of cider to cover them well.

If you wish to make it on a small scale, do not remove the apples from the cider when they get soft, but continue to boil them gently in it till the apples and cider form a thick smooth marmalade, which you must stir almost constantly towards the last.

A few minutes before you take it from the fire, flavor it highly with cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and cloves, and when the seasonings are well intermixed, put it up in jars, tie folded paper over them and keep them in a cool place.

If made in a proper manner, it will keep good more than a year, and will be found very convenient, being always in readiness.

Many people who are in the habit of making apple butter, take it from the fire before it is boiled near enough. Both to keep it well and taste well, it should be boiled long after the apples have become soft, and towards the last, simmered over coals till it gets almost thick enough to slice.

If you wish to make it on a large scale, after you have boiled the first kettle full of apples soft, remove them from the cider, draining them with a perforated ladle that the cider may fall again to the kettle, and put them into a clean tub.

Fill up the kettle with fresh apples, having them pared and sliced from the cores, and having ready a kettle of boiling cider, that is reduced to at least half its original quantity; fill up the kettle of apples with it as often as is necessary.
When you have boiled in this manner as many apples as you wish, put the whole of them in a large kettle, or kettles, with the cider, and simmer it over a bed of coals till it is so thick, that it is with some difficulty you can stir it: it should be stirred almost constantly, with a wooden spaddle, or paddle, or it will be certain to scorch at the bottom or sides of the kettle.

Shortly before you take it from the fire, season it as before directed, and then put it up in jars."

If you are without a spaddle or bed of coals, I have altered the above into a 12 Step recipe:

Step 1. Grab your Golden Girls DVD and put into DVD player. If you are looking for more of a pioneer atmosphere when making apple butter try watching Little House on the Prairie.

Step 2. Take two kilos (about 4.5 pounds) of apples, peel two of them and then sigh “Oh my god, there is no way I am peeling all these apples!” Fortunately, peeling the apples is optional.

Step 3. Quarter the apples and dump them in the slow cooker with ½ cup of apple cider, 3 cups sugar and a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg. Then stir to mix. I cannot get apple cider down here, so I used an organic and freshly pressed apple juice, with no added sugar.

Step 4. Put your slow cooker on high and cook apples for three hours.

Step 5. After three hours, turn the slow cooker on low and let cook for another 9 hours or so, stirring occasionally.

Step 6. Now take a small amount of the cooked apples and puree in blender or food processor until smooth. Put the processed apple mixture in a bowl and continue until all of the apples and juice are pureed.

Word of caution: When I made a pineapple panna cotta, I pureed the piping hot pineapple mixture and was rewarded by a blender exploding boiling hot pineapple all over my face (Note to Mr Show, JLo and Pumpkin Delight: No jokes please about hot liquids exploding in one’s face). Avoid this horrific experience by blending only a small amount of apples and lifting the lid every few seconds to let the steam escape.

Step 7. Once all of the cooked apples have been pureed, put back into the slow cooker and add more spices. I really enjoy the spicy bite of cinnamon so basically I dumped in an unspecified amount until I was happy with the taste.

Step 8. After the mixture is perfectly seasoned, cook on low for about 2 or 3 more hours, stirring occasionally.

Step 9. When finished, the apple butter should be extremely thick in texture and a deep brown in colour.

Step 10. At this point, you should realise that you failed to obtain any mason jars. Quickly dump out the commercial pasta sauce and strong pickled onions from their jars, thoroughly wash and dry said jars and fill with apple butter.

Step 11. I set the filled jars upside down for about an hour or two and when I turned them over, the lids miraculously sealed! This may work for you, although I cannot guarantee that this technique seals well enough to store outside of the refrigerator.

Step 12. The final step is to proudly announce your culinary achievement to your ungrateful family, who will then refuse to even take one small taste.

I am fortunate enough to be surrounded by orchards that produce fruit year round. Peaches, Nectarines, Persimmons, Pears, Apples and let us not forget my own orchard’s specialty: Plums.

My intention is to attempt a butter out of each and every one of these fruits as they are harvested.

Do you think I should start a local apple butter festival?

THE COMPLETE HISTORY OF APPLE BUTTER

…or least a slightly-plagiarized-from-the-disappointing-Wikipedia-version-of the complete history of apple butter.

“Apple butter was a popular way of using apples in colonial America.” – Wikipedia

That’s it! That is the total history of apple butter according to Wikipedia.

Further research has led me to discover a few more details. Whilst apple butter is generally accredited to New England, many historians actually believe it was brought over by the Pennsylvania Dutch (you know, the Amish folks) and then further rose to popularity in the Appalachia (you know, the Hillbillies).

Wikipedia goes on to describe apple butter as a “highly concentrated form of apple sauce.” I suppose that yes, whilst apple sauce and apple butter have the same beginnings it is far too simplistic to use such a description. It is like saying a ‘red wine jus’ is just a highly concentrated form of your favourite merlot.

Apple sauce is lumpy and runny and falls off your spoon if you check your watch whilst eating it.

Apple butter is smooth and spreads thick over toast. When you take that first bite, one should taste crisp autumn mornings and hay rides through the changing trees.

Traditionally, the preparation of apple butter was a weekend long community event. It all started early in the morning when the men would harvest several bushels of apples and then, as far as I could find, their work was done.

The boys would gather firewood to heat the large copper kettles and then, as far as I could find, their work was done.

The mothers peeled and sliced the apples. These were still the days when knives were used instead of peelers. My mother used to peel apples this way and told me that whatever letter the discarded apple peel most resembled was the first initial of the person whom you will marry.

I reckon that when the women were busy cutting off their fingers from peeling the apples while the men were lounging in hammocks, the women were secretly checking out the letters made by the peels to see who they should have actually married.

The cut apples were then thrown into the heated copper kettles while the girls took turns stirring with large wooden paddles and gossiping about Helga’s new bonnet.

It was important that the apples be stirred constantly or else they would burn and the whole town would take the girl in charge and put her in a stock and throw cream pies at her face.

The women would then spice the mixture with cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. Requiring to be stewed all day, I imagine the aroma filled the town air with sweet incense comforting the souls.

When the sky was overcome by the colours of the setting sun, the apple butter was done and all the men got off their hammocks to come down to the copper pot for the first taste.

In October, many “historic” towns around the US have apple butter festivals where they roll out the copper kettles and throw a party. There was a big festival in a country town close to where I grew up.

They had two big events a year, one when the maple syrup was harvested and the other when it was time to make apple butter. My memories of apple butter come from when my family attended this festival. Memories so strong that, despite not having apple butter for at least twenty years, I still fantasize about it.

A few weeks ago when the kids came home from a walk through the bush loaded with apples they had picked from the neighbouring orchard, apple butter nostalgia took the best of me.

I pulled out my copper kettle (a.k.a. the slow cooker) and set out to peeling the apples with a knife (a.k.a. the peeler) and gossiping about Helga’s new bonnet (a.k.a. watching Golden Girls).

Sixteen hours later, the apples morphed into a deep golden brown butter with a slight hint of red. It was so thick it could be cut with a knife and the smell of cinnamon filled the kitchen.

I was so excited and proud to share this memory with those I love, however the three jars still sit unopened in the refrigerator because those I love are too afraid to try it. Those I love that smother bread with the foul Aussie tradition that is Vegemite won’t spread their toast with the sweet memories of my childhood.

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I used jars labeled “Strong Pickled Onions”?