PASTRY
2 cups plain flour
1/2 cup butter
2 tbsp icing sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla essence
rub butter into flour
stir in icing sugar
add egg and vanilla essence
add cold water
bake blind at 200C in 9 inch tart tin (approx 10 minutes)
CURD FILLING
6 eggs beaten
1 1/2 cups castor sugar
4 oz unsalted butter
rind and juice of 4 lemons
put eggs, sugar and butter into a pan
stir over low heat until sugar has disolved completely
add lemon rind and juicecontinue cooking until curd has thickened slightly
pour into pastry case
bake for 20 minutes until just set
allow to cool and then dust with icing sugar
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
Sunday, 22 February 2009
Can Africa Govern Itself
Africa is a basket case. Every nation from one end to the other is in sanity defying trouble. Every nation faces its own set of challenges but at the core is the same question, can Africa govern itself? The answer is in fact yes. Now it’s not necessarily good governance, services are not necessesarily delivered, people do not know justice and democracy is more an idea than a reality. But Africa can and does govern itself.
There has been a lot of talk about third world debt accrued during the cold war. There has been a lot of talk about aid and charity. Africa doesn’t need any more charity. Africa can govern itself. The debts accrued during the cold war are still being accrued by corrupt governments. The former president of Kenya not so long ago said that he never believed that multi-party democracy could work, but he bowed to public and international pressure. In other words Mr. Moi does not believe that the people he ruled for almost thirty years are no capable of dealing with the democratic process.
Almost fifty years ago Kenya gained independence. With a population of only six million people (now the population of Nairobi alone), Kenya had all the tools needed for a modern democracy. There was a working road network with provision for future expansion (those expansion plans can still be seen at city hall), there was an electrical generation and distribution system in place (with expansion plans), there was a functioning democracy in which the country's politicians had participated, there were schools and hospitals with trained staff, there were even national parks to protect the country’s amazing wildlife.
Yet today Kenya has congested roads, failing power supply, hospitals more likely to kill rather than cure, schools so over crowded it is a miracle that children learn to read at all, teachers so under paid they cannot survive, and wildlife threatened and endangered. And a population of over 36 million people.
Much as colonial rule is never a pleasant thing the British were certainly a better colonial choice, if one had a choice, than say the French or worse still the Belgians. When the British left they left a working nation. So what happened? There is no excuse for what has happened to Kenya, there is no excuse for the corruption and destruction that has been done to the nation.
It is hard to pinpoint a moment in history that could lead to the ruination of such a prosperous nation. It is hard to pin point where a country with a bright future turned to dust. My theory is that the attempted coup deta back in the early 1980s changed the way Kenyans thought about their country. Where the cry harambee (we pull together) had meant something before the attempted coup afterwards it became meaningless. The politicians of the day (who are mostly the politicians of today) decided that the only one they should look out for was themselves. And that attitude has permeated through every level of society. If Kenya spent as much time working as it does trying to do deals and pull scams Kenya would be one of the most prosperous nations in the world not just Africa.
Strangely enough the politicians today refer to themselves as “the political class” in Kenya. As if they are somehow different to or above the people they are supposed to represent. There is no concept of equality here, people from Nairobi look down on those from the countryside, people with educations look down on those without. Kenya is a nation at war with itself. But can Kenyans govern themselves, the answer is still yes. Democracy may come with a panga (machette) and a gun, service may be delivered haphazardly but eventually they are delivered.
The fact is, even now, Kenya has the ability to feed its people, create jobs and wealth and to govern effectively. There is simply no excuse, no explanation, no possible justification for the state of this country. The rest of the world should actually take a step back and stop giving aid to Kenya, Kenya is capable of overcoming what it has done to itself, or maybe that is the starting point, taking responsibility for what every individual has done to the nation. From there they might actually be able to get some work done.
Kenya is poor because it has made itself poor, sick because it has allowed corruption to make the entire nation sick.
There has been a lot of talk about third world debt accrued during the cold war. There has been a lot of talk about aid and charity. Africa doesn’t need any more charity. Africa can govern itself. The debts accrued during the cold war are still being accrued by corrupt governments. The former president of Kenya not so long ago said that he never believed that multi-party democracy could work, but he bowed to public and international pressure. In other words Mr. Moi does not believe that the people he ruled for almost thirty years are no capable of dealing with the democratic process.
Almost fifty years ago Kenya gained independence. With a population of only six million people (now the population of Nairobi alone), Kenya had all the tools needed for a modern democracy. There was a working road network with provision for future expansion (those expansion plans can still be seen at city hall), there was an electrical generation and distribution system in place (with expansion plans), there was a functioning democracy in which the country's politicians had participated, there were schools and hospitals with trained staff, there were even national parks to protect the country’s amazing wildlife.
Yet today Kenya has congested roads, failing power supply, hospitals more likely to kill rather than cure, schools so over crowded it is a miracle that children learn to read at all, teachers so under paid they cannot survive, and wildlife threatened and endangered. And a population of over 36 million people.
Much as colonial rule is never a pleasant thing the British were certainly a better colonial choice, if one had a choice, than say the French or worse still the Belgians. When the British left they left a working nation. So what happened? There is no excuse for what has happened to Kenya, there is no excuse for the corruption and destruction that has been done to the nation.
It is hard to pinpoint a moment in history that could lead to the ruination of such a prosperous nation. It is hard to pin point where a country with a bright future turned to dust. My theory is that the attempted coup deta back in the early 1980s changed the way Kenyans thought about their country. Where the cry harambee (we pull together) had meant something before the attempted coup afterwards it became meaningless. The politicians of the day (who are mostly the politicians of today) decided that the only one they should look out for was themselves. And that attitude has permeated through every level of society. If Kenya spent as much time working as it does trying to do deals and pull scams Kenya would be one of the most prosperous nations in the world not just Africa.
Strangely enough the politicians today refer to themselves as “the political class” in Kenya. As if they are somehow different to or above the people they are supposed to represent. There is no concept of equality here, people from Nairobi look down on those from the countryside, people with educations look down on those without. Kenya is a nation at war with itself. But can Kenyans govern themselves, the answer is still yes. Democracy may come with a panga (machette) and a gun, service may be delivered haphazardly but eventually they are delivered.
The fact is, even now, Kenya has the ability to feed its people, create jobs and wealth and to govern effectively. There is simply no excuse, no explanation, no possible justification for the state of this country. The rest of the world should actually take a step back and stop giving aid to Kenya, Kenya is capable of overcoming what it has done to itself, or maybe that is the starting point, taking responsibility for what every individual has done to the nation. From there they might actually be able to get some work done.
Kenya is poor because it has made itself poor, sick because it has allowed corruption to make the entire nation sick.
Food
The problem with food is that as it has become more and more convenient it has become less and less nutritious. Now days we have fast food and ready meals and everything prepared, packaged and ready for us whenever we want it. We live in a world of instant gratification where what we want is only a microwave away.
Seems very sad to me. Our children don’t know where their eggs come from or where their burger originated from. They don’t realise the simplest things about the food that is presented to them. And slowly but surely they are forgetting how to cook.
We learn to cook from our parents and the adults around us. When food is zapped we learn that the world is handed to us, meals arrive with minimal inconvenience and no work. But in taking this away from our children and our lives we are taking away one of life’s simple joys. The joy of planning and executing a tasty meal of our own creation. We lose the tactile expression of love for our nearest and dearest, we lose the relaxation of kneading dough and rolling pastry. We lose a part of selves when we resort to take away and ready meals.
This is not to say that we have to create massive complex designer meals. Far from it. Even the simplest of meals can be tasty and exciting. And it can be an opportunity to spend time with our children and teach them the things we were taught.
In my family food is an expression of love. We usually over cater all events, I know I do. When I cook it is an expression of how I feel about the people I’m cooking for, a gift to them, a gift of my time and my thought and what little skills I have. When we cook we allow ourselves creativity and we allow ourselves a freedom we rarely have in the rest of our lives.
I remember school holidays making cup cakes with my mum, and chocolate cake made by my grossmama and chicken pie made by my gran. All such glorious gifts. Now days my gran doesn’t make her own puff pastry, even she thinks the frozen stuff is just as good. But the meals that I have been gifted with remain with me, remind me of the love of the women in my family.
When my grossmama died each of us women were given a copy of her chocolate cake recipe. Let me explain, grossmama’s chocolate cake was phenomenal, it was thick and rich and chocolaty and so delicious it would make you weep. We’ve all tried to make her recipe and none of us can get it right. Our efforts are just fine but none of us can replicate that amazing cake. At her funeral a friend of mine told me that we would never be able to make that cake using that recipe, “You see,” Jonathan told me. “Your grossmama used to have a secret ingredient. She made her chocolate cake with love”. And that is the truth.
We have an opportunity to show our love in a very real and wonderful way. Even the simplest meal can express to someone else our love and our care for them.
Seems very sad to me. Our children don’t know where their eggs come from or where their burger originated from. They don’t realise the simplest things about the food that is presented to them. And slowly but surely they are forgetting how to cook.
We learn to cook from our parents and the adults around us. When food is zapped we learn that the world is handed to us, meals arrive with minimal inconvenience and no work. But in taking this away from our children and our lives we are taking away one of life’s simple joys. The joy of planning and executing a tasty meal of our own creation. We lose the tactile expression of love for our nearest and dearest, we lose the relaxation of kneading dough and rolling pastry. We lose a part of selves when we resort to take away and ready meals.
This is not to say that we have to create massive complex designer meals. Far from it. Even the simplest of meals can be tasty and exciting. And it can be an opportunity to spend time with our children and teach them the things we were taught.
In my family food is an expression of love. We usually over cater all events, I know I do. When I cook it is an expression of how I feel about the people I’m cooking for, a gift to them, a gift of my time and my thought and what little skills I have. When we cook we allow ourselves creativity and we allow ourselves a freedom we rarely have in the rest of our lives.
I remember school holidays making cup cakes with my mum, and chocolate cake made by my grossmama and chicken pie made by my gran. All such glorious gifts. Now days my gran doesn’t make her own puff pastry, even she thinks the frozen stuff is just as good. But the meals that I have been gifted with remain with me, remind me of the love of the women in my family.
When my grossmama died each of us women were given a copy of her chocolate cake recipe. Let me explain, grossmama’s chocolate cake was phenomenal, it was thick and rich and chocolaty and so delicious it would make you weep. We’ve all tried to make her recipe and none of us can get it right. Our efforts are just fine but none of us can replicate that amazing cake. At her funeral a friend of mine told me that we would never be able to make that cake using that recipe, “You see,” Jonathan told me. “Your grossmama used to have a secret ingredient. She made her chocolate cake with love”. And that is the truth.
We have an opportunity to show our love in a very real and wonderful way. Even the simplest meal can express to someone else our love and our care for them.
Babies and Small Children
Babies are necessary in our lives. Not necessarily our own babies but someone’s baby. We don’t have to go out and make babies for the satisfaction of them. What we need is to make sure that we have babies or small children in our lives.
Why? Well, they’re demanding and noisy and smelly and messy and generally disruptive. And they force us out of ourselves, they force us to focus elsewhere, to put our brains to work, not for ourselves but for the sake of the little person who needs us. There can be nothing more valuable to us as human beings than to have to interact with little people.
Recently one of my dearest friends had her third baby. I was unemployed, broke, bored and being chased by the creditors, trying to eek out every penny and generally trying not to go absolutely crazy. So, I got to spend a lot of my time with my friend and her gorgeous girls. Her six year old, my god daughter, and I sat and sewed together, we cooked meals and treats. We hung out. Boring though it may sound my god daughter thought it great fun to hang with her Aunty Noms. The second born, fabulously two years old, and I bonded in the mornings over a bottle (for her) and a coffee (for me). And number three, all of one month old, we walked the house and chatted about the world, whilst her mum could luxuriate in a long shower without worrying about her baby.
And all the time I was with the girls, did I have a moment to worry about the bills I couldn’t pay or how to raise some money? Of course not. The beauty of small children is that they need you, they need you for a clean bum, food in their tummies, to fix their problems and kiss their hurts away, read them stories and generally give them the love and discipline they need to become well rounded people.
The added benefit to all of this is that whoever is mum to the kids you get to hang out with gets a chance to think for herself. She gets a chance to breath, even for a minute. It’s a two way blessing. My friend has the assurance that her girls are with a trusted adult who will reinforce her discipline and will love her children unconditionally.
I also have the privilege of smacking rights. A horrible gift but essential when an adult spends a lot of time with small children. So far I haven’t had to smack any of my girls, although once or twice we’ve come close. And each time I’ve had to ask the girls not to make me do it. Much as I believe that smacking is an important disciplinary tool, when applied infrequently and consistently, it’s not something I relish. With my god daughter I actually asked her not to make me do it. I told her the next time she broke the rule (which she’d broken numerous times that day and that she knew she was breaking) I would have to smack her and then I asked her not to make me go there. Fortunately for me my god daughter is a very good girl and she understood that I was serious.
When we’re single or don’t have kids of our own it is so easy to get caught up in our own little lives and to forget that there is a whole world of experience out there that we’re missing. Spending time with small children enriches us, it teaches us patience and how to have uncomplicated fun. What could be better than making pizza with a six year old or bread and butter pudding with a two year old? We have a chance to give to someone else with the glorious return of a snuggle at the end of the day.
Why? Well, they’re demanding and noisy and smelly and messy and generally disruptive. And they force us out of ourselves, they force us to focus elsewhere, to put our brains to work, not for ourselves but for the sake of the little person who needs us. There can be nothing more valuable to us as human beings than to have to interact with little people.
Recently one of my dearest friends had her third baby. I was unemployed, broke, bored and being chased by the creditors, trying to eek out every penny and generally trying not to go absolutely crazy. So, I got to spend a lot of my time with my friend and her gorgeous girls. Her six year old, my god daughter, and I sat and sewed together, we cooked meals and treats. We hung out. Boring though it may sound my god daughter thought it great fun to hang with her Aunty Noms. The second born, fabulously two years old, and I bonded in the mornings over a bottle (for her) and a coffee (for me). And number three, all of one month old, we walked the house and chatted about the world, whilst her mum could luxuriate in a long shower without worrying about her baby.
And all the time I was with the girls, did I have a moment to worry about the bills I couldn’t pay or how to raise some money? Of course not. The beauty of small children is that they need you, they need you for a clean bum, food in their tummies, to fix their problems and kiss their hurts away, read them stories and generally give them the love and discipline they need to become well rounded people.
The added benefit to all of this is that whoever is mum to the kids you get to hang out with gets a chance to think for herself. She gets a chance to breath, even for a minute. It’s a two way blessing. My friend has the assurance that her girls are with a trusted adult who will reinforce her discipline and will love her children unconditionally.
I also have the privilege of smacking rights. A horrible gift but essential when an adult spends a lot of time with small children. So far I haven’t had to smack any of my girls, although once or twice we’ve come close. And each time I’ve had to ask the girls not to make me do it. Much as I believe that smacking is an important disciplinary tool, when applied infrequently and consistently, it’s not something I relish. With my god daughter I actually asked her not to make me do it. I told her the next time she broke the rule (which she’d broken numerous times that day and that she knew she was breaking) I would have to smack her and then I asked her not to make me go there. Fortunately for me my god daughter is a very good girl and she understood that I was serious.
When we’re single or don’t have kids of our own it is so easy to get caught up in our own little lives and to forget that there is a whole world of experience out there that we’re missing. Spending time with small children enriches us, it teaches us patience and how to have uncomplicated fun. What could be better than making pizza with a six year old or bread and butter pudding with a two year old? We have a chance to give to someone else with the glorious return of a snuggle at the end of the day.
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