Eating American…With A Twist

As always we started the week with a meal plan:

Monday: hamburgers
Tuesday: fajitas
Wednesday: stir fry
Thursday: meatloaf
Friday: fried chicken

On Thursday our meal plan came to a screeching halt when we found ourselves in A&E because Adam was throwing up blood. By the time we got home and him into bed, all we wanted was pizza.

So Thursday’s meatloaf became Friday’s and Saturday became fried chicken, corn on the cob and champ.

Very American, except the champ, which is native to Northern Ireland.

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Fried Chicken

Fried chicken is, of course, native to the American South. This is a recipe I made up myself one day when I realized I forgot to buy eggs, since I used to dredge in egg and flour and fry. Now it’s a bit more complicated. But not really. 🙂

One chicken breast per person
3 or 4 heaped tablespoons flour
Mixed spices, whatever you like. We like a bit of spice so I use chilli powder and cayenne pepper.
Salt and Pepper
Water
Vegetable oil

Cut chicken into chunks.

Combine flour, spices, salt and pepper. Add enough water to make it liquid, but not runny. Coat chicken in batter.

Heat abut an inch of oil. Fry chicken until golden.

Eat!

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Champ (Sorry about the picture. Now you know why I rarely photograph food!)
(And, yes, that’s Adam’s plate. My regular plates do not teach a person how to count)
Champ is a Northern Irish dish. It is mashed potatoes with spring onion. You may call them salad onions or scallions.

500 grams potatoes, any sort. I usually use new potatoes because I hate peeling!
100 ml milk
10 grams butter/marg
5 – 6 spring onions, trimmed and cut into teeny tiny pieces.

Cook the potatoes until done. Drain and set aside.

Into the pot heat the milk with the butter and the spring onions until the milk tastes oniony.

Mash it all together. I usually do that in my food processor so the spring onions get even smaller.

Eat!

I have a feeling y’all know how to make corn on the cob. 🙂

8 Years Ago Yesterday…

my brother drove me to SFO and I permanently left America for good.

8 years ago today I arrived in Belfast. For good.

I’ve been back, of course. But for never more than a month or two. Northern Ireland is my home now.

When people ask me if I’d go back my answer is always no. Of course I miss my family. And some of the familiar food. But I married a Coleraine boy and gave birth to a Belfast one. Here we will stay.

Adam, of course, can go to America when he grows up, if he wants. He is a full citizen of both countries, with 2 passports. I wouldn’t want him so far away, of course, but if that’s where his life leads? More power to him!

I used to dream about retiring to the coast of Maine and getting snowed in all winter with a pile of books and plenty of food.

Now maybe I’ll retire to the North Coast of Northern Ireland. I won’t get snowed in, but I can still lay in a pile of books and pretend I am.

I haven’t decided yet if Simon is coming with me. 🙂

PS 7 years ago this Sunday, Simon and I were married. More on that soon!

Let’s Talk About St Patrick’s Day

And what happens here in Belfast.

Drunken debauchery, mostly.

Most people have the day off and so they start drinking early. Simon took Adam to daycare as usual today (so we could do things around the house without Adam underfoot, a rare occurrence!) and people were already queueing at Tesco with booze to buy.

Simon was a bit concerned about my going to pick Adam up for 5 due to people having been drinking all day. But it was really no big deal.

For one thing, there were cops everywhere on my main route. For another, all of the pubs and bars had very obvious security standing outside and, I’m sure, inside.

I did see people already drunk at 430. But I also saw a lot of people just having fun. Wearing big green hats. Wearing those headbands with shamrocks at the ends of springs. Laughing. Hanging out with their friends. Enjoying a gorgeous early spring evening and, yes, having a drink.

So how are Simon and I celebrating St Patrick’s Day?

Well, we cleaned the flat without a small boy underfoot.

Then we had some smoked salmon for lunch.

Then we napped.

Then I got Adam from daycare and Simon cooked spaghetti.

And now a small boy is fast asleep (at 730, whoohoo!) and Simon and I are sharing some Stella and having an Easter Egg.

So Happy St Patrick’s Day.

And enjoy the craic!

So In Precisely One Week

We’ll be on a plane to California.

I was feeling really really anxious about the trip, but for some reason all the anxiety has just disappeared.  Those 11.5 hours on a plane with a 6 month old will go how they go.  If he cries, he cries.  If he sleeps, he sleeps.

Same as for when we are in CA.  Taking him 8 hours outside his timezone may suck.  But then again he may adapt quickly.  I certainly have plenty of people to help us look after him if Simon and I need to crash out in the afternoon because he’s been up all night.  We’ve also booked two hotel rooms so we can alternate staying up with him and sleeping, just like we do at home!

So I am really looking forward to the trip.  I haven’t been home to CA for 6 years.  Or home for Christmas for that matter.

That’s a long time.

So, Let’s Talk About Health Care…

Most of you may not know, but I used to work for Kaiser Permanente in California.  To be specific, I worked for KP-IT, which is exactly what it sounds like KP’s information technology division.

In fact, I just found out that the project I was assigned to, which was called something like NIS (National Insurance System), has finally gone live.  When I left KP in 2003 to move to the UK (well, actually, when I was made redundant, but I digress) the project was about 5 years overdue and about $1m over budget.  It was (and apparently finally is) a system to allow KP’s clients to access their health information online.  It was 99% ready to go when HIPAA was passed and we pretty much had to go back to the drawing board.

Anyway, I only mention this so that you, my lovely readers, realize that I have quite a bit of experience with US healthcare, at least HMOs and of course with the UK system.

Let’s also straighten that out real quick.  I don’t live in Ireland.  I live in Northern Ireland.  They are, in fact, two different countries.  Northern Ireland is part of the UK, and hence part of the NHS.  The Republic of Ireland is its own country and I know nothing about its health care system. Although I hear its about in great of shape as the US’.

Let me also state here that the NHS is a huge organization serving millions of people.  And that I already know that my experiences here in NI can be very different from the services in England.  Each ‘trust’ or area can and does have their own criteria etc.  But for the record? For the most part? The NHS does an amazing job.  For not one penny out of pocket for its users.

Yes, of course, we pay for it through our taxes.  But we don’t miss that money.  You can’t miss what you never had.  It is taken out before the pay goes into our account.  All it really is, is a number on a pay slip.

And because of that number on that pay slip I never have to think ‘OMG Adam is sick, where am I going to get the money to take him to the doctor.’  Or, in our very real case, ‘OMG Adam needs an MRI.  I hope our insurance covers it.’  Because our insurance does cover it.

Yes, we had to wait 3 months for that MRI.  But that’s, really, for a very good reason.  Because there are other people more ill than Adam who need the MRI machine first.  The Lump doesn’t affect Adam at all.  As far as he’s concerned its always been there.  Its grown with him just like his arms and legs have grown with him.  The Lump has stopped growing, which is a bit of a relief for Simon and me, but for Adam? He couldn’t care less.  He rolls onto his left side as easily onto his right.

However, if it was affecting him?  If he had needed to be seen right away? He would have been, of this I have every confidence.  Why? Because when I dropped him and he hit his head? We were seen by a doctor within about 30 minutes.

Not that we haven’t waited ages in A&E.  About 2 years ago Simon cut his finger very badly on a broken coffee mug.  We waited most of the night in A&E that time.  Because, again, there were more urgent cases in front of us.

But what about day to day, non-urgent or usual care?  Well, if I call my doctor on Monday? And I say its fairly urgent? I can usually see one of the GPs by Tuesday.  If I say its very urgent, such as when I had a cyst on my shoulder that got infected and then burst? I was seen within 2 hours.  Just the other week when Adam was exhibiting signs of an ear infection and had a croupy cough, I got him in to see one of the GPs within 2 hours of my call.

Now, it wasn’t his official GP.  But that’s okay, because part of the reason Simon and I are with this GP practice is because we both like all three of the GPs in it.  And Adam is with the same practice.  He doesn’t have a paediatrician he has a GP.

If he needed a paediatrician, like when he broke his skull and his rib, he had one.  And she was lovely as well.

Also, let’s keep in mind that my pregnancy was classed as high risk from the moment that little stick said pregnant, because of my diabetes.  And I had my first OB/Endo appointment about 3 weeks after my GP sent the referral letter.  And, again, paid not one penny out of pocket.

So, yes, you hear bad things about the NHS.  About dirty hospitals and overworked staff without enough resources.  But I haven’t experienced that here in NI.

But I would have to say, in my very humble opinion, it is better than what goes on in the US.  Where it would appear that health care, decent or otherwise, is a privilege and not a right.  Where if you aren’t rich, or don’t have health insurance, as so many don’t, you can’t afford to get sick.  Its disgusting. And heart wrenching.

If I did live in the States I would be happy to have my taxes raised so that those without coverage could get it.  Because there were times when I barely had coverage.  Where I paid outrageous premiums through COBRA or private insurance just to make sure I was covered if something horrible happened to me.  Where I didn’t go to see a doctor for about 2 years just for a check up because I didn’t want to have to pay the money for it.

Yes, people abuse benefits systems.  People abuse it here in the UK as well.  But at least here in the UK we all know, all of us are entitled to the same level of health care as everyone else.  Yes, there is private health care if you want to pay for it.  But you don’t have to have it.  And I don’t.

As an aside, do you know  how KP got started?  The organization that is now Kaiser Permanente began at the height of the Great Depression with a single inventive young surgeon and a 12-bed hospital in the middle of the Mojave Desert. When Sidney Garfield, MD, looked at the thousands of men involved in building the Los Angeles Aqueduct, he saw an opportunity. He borrowed money to build Contractors General Hospital; six miles from a tiny town called Desert Center, and began treating sick and injured workers. But financing was difficult, and Dr. Garfield was having trouble getting the insurance companies to pay his bills in a timely fashion. To compound matters, not all of the men had insurance. Dr. Garfield refused to turn away any sick or injured worker, so he often was left with no payment at all for his services. In no time, the hospital’s expenses were far exceeding its income.

Read the rest of the story.  Its the beginning of the pre-payment and co-payment insurance system.

Too bad the system is now so very broken.

Its a Sham! A Sham with Yams!! A Yam Sham!

You will only get that title if you are a Buffy fan.

Happy Thanksgiving.

And to anyone worrying, like my mother, that I won’t have a turkey today since I couldn’t get one at Sainsbury’s on Tuesday?  I’ll get one today at Marks & Spencer.

In other news, as Adam was eating his first bottle of the day (slept until 6!!!) I explained Thanksgiving to him.

I am not sure he got all the nuances.

Adam and Mummy’s Next Big Adventure!

So today I put Adam into his Bjorn, grabbed my sholley and my shopping bags and headed for the big Sainsbury’s.  Its a huge supermarket about 15 minutes away by bus.  Well, if you catch the right bus.  If you catch the wrong bus you go all the way through East Belfast and it takes more like 1/2 an hour.  I managed to catch the right bus both coming and going.

The only entertaining thing about our adventure was the little old ladies who kept looking at him in his Bjorn sort of like this:

o__O

Slings and Bjorns are not very common in Belfast.

It was fun.  And Adam was facing out so I could see his little head going back in forth looking at all the bright lights and pretty packages.

So we did the shopping for the next 4 days.

Including Thanksgiving dinner.  Well, except for the turkey.  Apparently they only have turkey joints of any kind around Christmas.

But don’t they know I’m an American and need my Thanksgiving turkey?!?! 🙂

On Speaking The Language

I was IMing with my mum the other night and she asked me if I used UK spellings by habit or because I knew I had to.  I told her that at this point? Its habit.

So its mum. And cheque. Not mom.  And check.

I also say tomahto, not tomayto.

And cheers rather than thanks.

And ‘what’s the craic’ rather than ‘what’s going on’?

And I think I upset my father when I called the tax form I was asking him about the 2555 E Zed.  🙂

I do live in the country, after all.  I should speak the language!

Happy Mother’s Day UK Mums!

Even I got a card and a little teddy bear! And I’m not even really a mum yet!

Simon’s parents are here and we went out to dinner last night.  It was to celebrate Simon’s birthday, Simon’s Mum’s birthday and Mother’s Day!  A good meal was had by all.

Today will be another quiet Sunday, me thinks.  I lay in until 8am.  That’s forever in insomnia world!

Back to work tomorrow.  I have been feeling a bit down over the best few days, but not in a way that is crippling me.  Just in a ‘I’m kinda blue’ way.

I wonder if I will get two Mother’s Days next year.  One for UK and one for US.  I bet I will. 🙂