How will you be celebrating New Year's Eve?

Did you have a wonderful Christmas? I do hope so. Ours was a bit of an odd one because my 93 year-old Grandad broke his hip a week ago and my Mum (who we spent Christmas with) is tearing back and forth from hospital every day trying to ensure that he gets at least minimal standard nursing care, despite his great age. Sadly there seems to be a feeling that once someone over 80 suffers a fairly major accident/illness, you may as well let them pass on to pastures new, as it were. As an ex-nurse of the old school, my Mum is terribly disappointed in the current hospital care, as well as being desperately worried about her father.

I know 93 is a ripe old age and some might say, "well, he's clearly had a good innings..." but before the accident he was fit and healthy, mentally 'all there' and had a great quality of life. Still went for his early morning walk along Southsea beach every day, did all his own shopping, cooked his own meals (ok, with just the teensiest help from the culinary aisles of Michael Marks & Thomas Spencer) and loved to visit nearby Portsmouth Cathedral, regularly laying fresh flowers on my grandmother's grave and chatting to friends along the way. I hope the doctors at least try and help him recover, if only so that he can end his days in peace rather than in pain.

Anyway that aside, we did manage to all sit down (albeit rather late) on Christmas Day and eat together - bronzed turkey for the meat-eaters, cranberry-salmon parcels for the 'pescetarians'. And a hearty toast was raised to Grandad, in his (hopefully temporary) absence.

And as per our family tradition for any celebration (started by my paternal Granny who lived near the Colchester oyster beds and had a lifelong penchant for the delicacy) , we also managed to put away a few dozen fresh oysters. For those not keen on raw shellfish, I'm going to post my recipe for the most delicious alternative - oysters grilled with parmesan, spinach and cream. We call them Rockefeller oysters but in truth there's no official recipe, as the original Oysters Rockefeller are a closely guarded secret by the chefs at New Orleans restaurant Antoine's. But anyway, these honestly are To Die For and although I still like to have a few raw ones at any sitting, these are a strong contender for my alltime favourite food.

So to feed 2...

Ingredients:

A dozen oysters

1/2 bag of baby spinach leaves

Black pepper to taste

Double cream

Grated parmesan

Breadcrumbs

Method:

Shuck the oysters (you need tools here, so get properly equipped first!)

Place the halved oysters on a baking tray (lining with aluminum foil first to make the cleaning up a little easier!)

Wash the spinach leaves in a colander.

Put the wet leaves into a saucepan with a knob of butter, a little salt and lots of black pepper. Lid on and let the spinach sweat over a low heat (you don't want the leaves to burn so give them an occasional toss).

Once they've wilted, drain off all the excess water - be rigorous about this as you don't want a runny topping on your oysters. I press out the water with a big serving spoon, squashing the spinach down until no more liquid is coming off.

Roughly chop the wilted spinach.

Add enough double cream to the spinach to just form a creamy mixture (but not too runny remember!)

Mix in the grated parmesan. I've not put a quantity here as I think taste is a personal thing but roughly half a standard pack.

Spoon the spinach-parmesan mixture on top of the raw, halved oysters.

Sprinkle generously with breadcrumbs.

Grill oysters under a high setting until breadcrumbs turn golden and mixture is bubbling...say 3 minutes.

Enjoy. And tell me that wasn't one of the most divine taste sensations you've ever had??

So if you haven't already planned your New Year's Eve menu, may I strongly recommend Oysters Rockefeller? And don't forget the bubbly...

Happy New Year! And may 2010 bring you all that you desire - or at least need!

Dipping into my past life.

Well the presents are all wrapped, bags packed for our sojourn across the Solent to my parents' house and I've just the stockings to, er, help Santa with.

At least there's one less present to wrap - and buy - this year. Six months ago, Husband and I decided not to give each other any more 'stuff' (lovely as 'stuff' undeniably is...) this Christmas. It was partly induced by the shocking state of our finances but also by the fact that our little cottage is heaving with things and I just couldn't bear to add to all the clobber. Ok, I probably could have just about squeezed in a little blue box (Elizabeth Taylor's code for a present from Tiffany's, the sparklier the better) but given the credit crunch, that wasn't going to happen.

But that's not to say that we wrote Christmas off. Oh no. In fact, we did something almost better (almost...!) than a blue box. We revisited my former life. Which because of my background in theatre (a long time ago now but the memories of which are etched into my skin) and my passion when I was a city-dweller of spending any spare cash and time at the ballet/opera/theatre, meant a trip to Theatreland!

So last weekend, we settled the children at Grandma's, begged a bed for the night from some old friends and hopped on a train to the Smoke.

Coming out of the tube at Sloane Square was alone worth the trip. Every tree was hung with sparkling LED snowflakes, some seemingly suspended in mid-air, others dripping off skeletal branches. It was never lit up like this when I was a Londoner. Clearly no credit crunch in effect here! I must have looked such a country bumpkin as I stood in the middle of the square for far too long, mouth agape and eyes soaking up this entrancing Christmas scene. I even took photos. What a tourist!!!

As soon as I managed to get a grip of myself, I swung into an old and wonderfully unchanged haunt, Oriel's, and waited for my old friend M to arrive and join us for a quick pre-concert bite. After some delectable food and an even yummier glass of Voignier, we nipped round the corner to the Cadogan Hall to see...Nick Heyward and Haircut 100!!! Any readers younger than 35 won't have a clue what I'm talking about but let me just say that he has the most heavenly voice - so much so that I was almost disappointed when the rest of the band came on and his voice was diluted by their guitars, drums and backing vocals.

The following day, our lovely hosts laid on a fabulous spread for breakfast and then dropped us at the tube to make our way into town. We just had time to fly round the National Portrait Gallery and have a Pret wrap (ah, old times...) before dashing off to the Haymarket. We'd promised Grandma we'd be home in time to put the kids to bed so a matinee was all we could squeeze in but hey, once you're in the magical world of a theatre, as the lights go down and the curtain rises...you can't tell what time of day it is and it really doesn't matter.

What did matter was that the leading lady, who had to go on stage that evening as well, showed her face. And she did. Well, a bit more than her face but let's not split hairs. Anna Friel in Breakfast at Tiffany's was very different to the legendary Audrey Hepburn but equally fabulous. And it was interesting to see a production that was far closer to the original book than Blake Edwards' film (memorable as that was).

Then after our heady 24 hours of culture, we ran for Waterloo and sped back to our babies, the Island and family life. But not without an extra spring in our steps. And a promise to do the same next Christmas.

Exhilarating as it was, I'm not sorry to have left London. But oh it's nice to dip back into it now and again. Hey I might even take the bambinos next time...

Christmas craftiness

Oh what a relief it is not to be racing out the door each morning at 7.40 am, with 2 littlies in various states of dress, trying to remember the requisite snacks, clean gym kit, book bag, wellies and a strictly-proportioned 'pocket' toy. Plus any half-eaten bits of toast left over from breakfast in case one or other child decides half-way to school/nursery that they are actually hungry after all. Ahhh, happy holidays!

But the thing is, once your child gets used to the marvellous organisation and stimulation of an educational institution, holidays are really anything but - for parents that is. And when I say parent, I mean the stay-at-home variety, in most cases (but by no means all)...us mums!

So if we want happy children (and therefore happy mummies), we have to get a bit creative - especially at this time of year when we can't just head to the park (Brrr) or turf our beloveds out into the garden (ditto).

Once you've made some glittery Christmas cards (we used Christmas stamps bought in last January's Cox & Cox sale), baked a few mince pies and decorated the tree together, what next? Well we've just spent the afternoon painting some salt dough shapes that we baked yesterday and I can highly recommend the activity for cost (ingredients: flour, salt, water, acrylic paints), ease (my 2 year old managed to cut out and paint his own shapes with barely any help) and delight, as well as all round festive usefulness (thread ribbon through and hang on the tree afterwards). Ta da, instant crafty Christmas appeal!

So if this appeals to any frazzled parents out there, here's what you'll need:

1 cup of plain flour, 1/2 cup fine tablesalt, 1/2 cup water, rolling pin, some pastry cutters (hearts and stars are good for tinies; snowflakes and gingerbread men for more adept bakers), baking trays, a skewer, some pretty ribbon or silver thread.

Method:

Mix all the edible ingredients together.

Roll pastry out, using extra flour to prevent sticking.

Cut out shapes and place on baking tray.

Using a skewer, make a small hole at the top of each shape to insert ribbon later.

Bake in a cool oven (100C) for 2 hours.

Leave to cool before painting. Reds and greens are most traditional and some white piping round the edges works a treat. I also think a bit of gold paint is a must.

You can also varnish decorations for serious longevity. Personally I think ours will have a lifespan of this Christmas only but maybe next year...

Thread red gingham ribbon or silver thread through hole and hang for maximum satisfaction and show-off factor.

Now how easy is that?

In my daughter's shoes.

Oh, oh oohhhh! Am SOOooooo excited! M's teachers (there's 26 kids in the class so they have 3 form teachers sharing the responsibility - not like in my day when it was one, very green, very harassed college grad for 25 of us!) have asked me to organise a cooking class for the little darlings tomorrow. My first cooking demo ever to the under-5's market. Husband reckons I should give each of them a business card to take home to their parents...ever the entrepreneur! (S'ok, I won't).

So corny I know but at this time of year, what else is there to make but mince pies? So I have packed my child-proof mini-muffin pan, which makes the dinkiest and most chic mince pies ever, pastry cutters, icing sugar and miniature rolling pins. And tomorrow, instead of dropping my little girl off at school, I shall be following her footsteps and going into the classroom with her! At last I'll get to see what it's like to be in her shoes. Kind of. Except I'm meant to be in charge, or something.

I don't know about teaching but I can't wait to get all those little kiddies rolling and cutting and mixing and baking. Just think of how much mess we can make with just 1 bag of flour and an icing sugar duster! The teachers will never forgive me...but hopefully M's classmates will have a ball. I can't say my chosen recipe gets top marks for nutritional value but I think in December, there are some things you just can't fight and mince pies are one of them (Kate, take note...). Officially, I believe it's obligatory to accompany said pies with steaming mulled wine but I think if I hand round my thermos, I might never get asked back. Which would be a shame.

The only thing that's bothering me is what to wear? Do I go for the smart grey wool trousers and linen shirt option? Or a more funky Boden skirt and stripy jumper combo? Are black leather knee-high boots inappropriate in Reception? Will my eco-friendly felt Timberlands have them snickering at me behind their pudgy little hands?

Advice please. Any time between now and 8 am tomorrow morning....no pressure...