For the last month I’ve been planning this post, my favorites carefully selected, but when I think of all the things I’ve made this year I’m actually a little lost for words.

While I did not actually do a lot of roaming this year, I did manage to re-visit many of the countries I’ve stepped foot in with a little bit of food attempted from each.

I’ve also made many things that were previously rumbling around in my head or I found on a page or website somewhere and it sounded too good to pass up trying.

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2012 has passed me by quicker then the blink of an eye. I've been told by many that as you get older time goes faster, but I believe that is wrong, I believe time goes as faster with a busy schedule, no matter what age.

As I sit here with sunburned limbs and a tired soul from camping I know there isn’t many days left in this year, and with that I thought I would firstly sum up my year in photographs.

There were many to choose from, but I thought it best to break it down my photographs into separate collages of photos.

The first 3 are the best photos from every third of this year and the last images are my favorites from the only overseas travel I did this year, in Australia.

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In my last post (before the end of the world didn’t arrive) I stated that there is a lot of ginger and well, let’s be honest, a whole gang of spices in the blogosphere. I’m actually adding to that today.

10 years ago I spent my one and only holiday season in Germany and I’m positive I ate this during my stay, but I can’t quite remember.

I’ve had many pieces of Stollen throughout my life and I’m going to honestly say that while it is truly a symbol of the holiday season in Germany, it’s also something I never ate with satisfaction.

Rum and raisins may be perfection to some but not this girl here, no, I’d rather have a whole loaf of marzipan bread in one sitting thank you.

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The 21 December 2012 has been predicted to be the last day of the world.

I’m finding a lot of humor about this on Facebook from my variety of friends including quotes:
‘I don’t have time for this with Christmas shopping.’
‘What is the exact time this is happening? Does it mean at midnight or another time zone? So many questions so little time.’
‘The world ends tomorrow, thank God I’m seeing The Hobbit tonight.’

With all this funny chatter I’ve been thinking about the last meal I’d enjoy.

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I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.

A lot.

About those children, about those innocent people, about the lives lost in Connecticut.

Life can be cruel, heartless and render one speechless at times. In the same manner though, in the same heartbeat, the best in people is always given and shared amongst the living.

Individuals go out of their way to give a hug. Or make something to show they care. They order a bunch of flowers or simply stop by to say a word or two.

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This recipe has been rattling around in my head for the past few weeks and I have been meaning to make it to share with you since it popped in my head.

I originally came up with this when I was thinking of a way to use cucumber in a cocktail, it was one of those times I wanted to figure it out without consulting google.

I wanted it to be refreshing, something someone would yearn to finish a hot day off with (or if your on vacation feel free to drink this whenever).

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Have you seen ‘I Love You, Man’?

If not, there is this scene where the two protagonists go to a place with the ‘best fish tacos’ around. Ever since my eyes saw those fish tacos I’ve been wanting them.

That place exists in Venice, California, a location that’s not just down the road from me. So I set about making some of my own, in my usual endeavor of foreign flavors.

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I haven’t spoken about this again since that original post in February, but I have been finalizing up my book to send it off to agents.

In its very self, writing is something countless individuals do on this earth. Whether that be as a novelist or a poet.

So many want to be successful, only 1% succeed at being published.

That fact…that tiny number is daunting in itself.

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So…there’s three weeks left.

Three weeks until Christmas break and I’m in the office at 6.45am. 

Ahh the end of year rush, there’s nothing like it.

I’m also having to give myself a pep talk as my alarm goes off for it’s second time because my eyes would much rather stay shut and I need to convince them otherwise.

This past weekend I decided to re-visit one of my absolute favorite places in this world, and what perfect timing for my friend needed a day away from the world after ending her relationship.

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At this time of year, everyone is tired.

Getting through the long winter with a little time off seems like forever ago and yet the Christmas break seems almost too far away to grasp with such low energy.

I’ve been suffering from that this week, I’m so tired, shattered, exhausted from the many hours of lost sleep through the year that I feel as though my head will hit the desk and I won’t care who sees me in the office.

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“Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.”
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


Oh Sunday, how I may love you more then all the others.

Sunday is my day.

I don’t usually make plans with anyone because quite simply I rush from work to see friends to exercising most days of the week that Sunday is for sleeping in with no guilt.

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My main goal with this blog is to introduce people who have never tried international meals to them and how to make them.

Sure I get sidetracked on this most of the time, but today I’m going back to my roots and it includes a little story.

This is my friend Bobbie and that photo is around 5 years old. This day 5 years ago I spent my one and only Thanksgiving with her.

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When I went to Rio, I arrived at midnight and all I had of the scenery that beckoned was the walled favela’s on the road from the airport to Ipanema beach.

A solid ten hour sleep later I woke up and discovered I had set my alarm wrong and didn’t have long before I had to check out.

Before running around to make up for overslept time, I opened the curtain and stepped out onto my tiny balcony and saw this view.

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If you have been following this blog and thought this girl like cookies then you would be right.

I've been going through a cookie phase, I just want cookies.

I swore I wouldn’t make another one for at least a month and then I got an idea and like a morning tea at work where you are faced with more food then you can intake but ‘you just have to try it anyhow,’ I was without self control and went ahead with these.

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This is  a gift for some friends who lost a baby. As I took in this information I considered the fact that sometimes life is an all out battle, an all out fight, for the variety of emotions going through our veins.

A deep-seated trial within us to see the world with beauty when our sight is closing in.

My friends are very dear to me and so I felt the need to give them something; just a small token for how much sorrow that I cannot even imagine they are feeling right now.

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It’s been a few days since my last post and I have a good reason; I went on a long weekend to Wellington with a close friend.

So, there is no recipe, just pictures and a few tips on where to go and what to see in the Capital of this island nation.

If you travel to New Zealand and decide to go to the two biggest cities, you will find they are vastly different.

The largest city – Auckland – is spread out and difficult to get around without a vehicle, I live here and have found it’s a lot of little towns combined in a simply put way. The airport is an easy half hour trip from the central city and the traffic is precarious.

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Spring has sprung and suddenly the many layers I’ve been wearing for what has been too long now can be stripped off.

Slowly and surely, the days get longer and a little warmer.

The trees are full of foliage once again and everything seems brighter.

Expectations for summer are put in place and the patience required for the free season to arrive is tested.

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One thing I’ve learnt from this blog is that you shouldn’t be afraid to try something new.

I’ve lived my life in the most recent years with a sense of ‘you only get one chance at today.’

Which is true, but with real life comes real distraction.

You have to work late so miss catching up with a friend.

A cold strikes you down so you can’t take that drive to adventure you were planning.

Living life with a sense of trying something new, grabbing the bull by the balls (ahh Never Been Kissed, I still love you like I’m 12 years old) as such, can take real determined effort.

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In my last post I mentioned a long weekend coming up, well that weekend has now passed me by as I sit back at my office desk.

I did one interesting thing other then sleep, I slept so much that when it came time to get up at 5.30 this morning, as I do every day for work, my brain thought it was part of the dream I was having.

The one interesting thing I did (other then spend time in the kitchen, of course), was to attend a fashion/entertainment show with my friend who called last minute to invite me.

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I have always considered Pumpkin Soup to be southern hemisphere creation, I mean, Americans don’t eat pumpkin like we do. They carve them into faces or buy them canned to fill the crust of a pie.

And I haven't ever heard of eating pumpkin soup in Europe (although they may in fact do)

I thought I knew reasonably well that it was from a land that needs the hearty warmth of pumpkin in the depths of winter.

I was wrong!

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In the almost ten months I’ve had this blog this will be my third time I make a different form of mousse.

I can assure you that I’m not fascinated nor do I seek out ways to make it, but rather that I find the texture something delightful.

You know, that ‘it’s so fluffy I could die’ line from Despicable Me.

If you dismiss cotton candy (which just dissolves instantly on the tongue anyhow) then mousseis the dessert equivalent in real life form – it’s so fluffy that it’s the closest thing one could ever have to tasting a cloud.

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Most of the time I feel like a mediocre cook and an amateur blogger. I particularly feel this way when looking at sites like Joy the Baker and Shutterbean or one of my absolute favorite’s The Crepes of Wrath.

The ease of these sites, the humor that rolls off the page and the food that makes ones mouthwater makes one want to comment.

I feel this way often, and I say this in honesty, not in the ‘please comment and tell me I’m great' way.

But then sometimes, every once in a while, my brain will rattle a recipe off that I attempt and I think, this is why I blog, this is why I want to blog and get joy from it.

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I initially attempted this cake a week ago, and it was not a pretty sight, nor did it look like a cake.

What I wanted to create was a tiered cake, but what I was left with was crumbs – turns out my attempt in vegan and gluten free had veered down a path I didn’t want to go any further down. I wanted to throw the rest of the cake mixture out.

My dear second family where I currently stay are dead against throwing out food unless it no longer resembles the food it originally was or the expiry date has long since passed.

To my dismay they said, we can eat it on ice cream.

Eat coconut, almond crumbs on ice cream I thought.

That means I have to continue baking the remaining cake batter I thought.

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Are you a magazine reader?

I’m a magazine reader.

I always have been too.

From the time I could flick, I would pick up my grandmother’s subscriptions that she would really only buy to complete the crosswords as she ate her breakfast.

There I would hover for a few short moments and look at all the things the editor had ticked off to be published.

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Wow, I did a lot yesterday!

I left the house at 6 a.m. and didn’t return until 11 p.m.

The drive from my best friends place back to my own in the darkness felt like a weird dream involving the highway as sleep tapped at my shoulder.

Most of my day was spent traveling around to different locations with my boss and his ‘entourage’, me being one of those. A thought of being apart of a famous persons entourage and how that would differ from my present entourage experience ran through my mind on one occasion; the conclusion that I would definitely have to have better shoes was made.

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I think this one ate too many!
I cannot believe I have not made one Canadian dish this entire time.

And to those that have been reading this for some time I am sorry.

Amongst the several recipes to be found on here from other countries, I have omitted to attempt anything from a country I was living in only two years ago.

I’m going to admit I wasn’t really sure of Canadian foods other then Poutine and Perogis, which I enjoyed during my stay in the Great North.

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Have you ever eaten a meal and immediately wished you could time travel back to re-live the experience?

Now this isn’t one of those simply make/order another one questions. Imagine if you did, by the time the last mouthful has been eaten the pleasure will have been replaced with remorse for how much you have stuffed your body with foor. No, this is such food enjoyment that you just want to enjoy every mouthful all over again.

I said this very thing on Friday night over dinner with a friend while we were enjoying dinner at a Brazilian restaurant; her gleeful reply was ‘I just love that you are such a foodie.’

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Now please don’t be offended, but I’m not a lover of potatoes. I don’t love to eat them when you know and compare them to sweet potatoes, they are just not as satisfying.

I don’t buy potato chips because quite frankly the thin amount of self control I have with junk food goes out the window and it’s as though I haven’t eaten in a month when they are around.

Sometimes though I make an exception, when I’m craving my mother’s mashed potatoes and she just happens to make them when I visit. Or my friends have potato chips and fresh bread, I can’t ignore the call of chip sandwiches, that’s down right wrong. Or there is onion dip (a New Zealand tradition) sitting there, waiting to be scooped up.

Exceptions can be made and then I am done with potatoes again.

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One of the recent friends I made at a job I was doing is now roaming the globe and I have to say I miss her.

We were a crazy team together and that kind of work environment doesn’t occur too often.

I wouldn’t say I miss her singing the ‘It’s Friday’ song over and over, but with Friday my mind always turns to her and I wonder how she's doing wherever she may be.

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Over the past two weeks, I have reveled in the strength, flexibility and ability of the thousands of athletes taking part in the Olympic Games.

Today, they end, not to be seen for another four years in another specially chosen city.

While the athletes have been competing from the 204 nations involved, I have been in the kitchen making foods from a small variety of the many countries represented. I have not, however, made a single thing to represent the host country.

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I’ve only been to Mexico once, but in that seven day period on the piece of land south of the USA, I have to say I fell in love.

The opportunity to explore the land, its orange hills, its vast water views, its easygoing atmosphere.

To food that delighted me, even to this day I can recall where I ate and what I had on those wonderful meals.

The people I met who showed the kindness I’ve come to know from that part of the world.

One of the greatest things Mexican cuisine has gifted the world is tortillas.

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The small art of borrowing an object, something that you have not obtained outright, but been given to use for a period always differs in results.

I’ve met countless people who refuse to lend anything out to anyone after too many failed changing of the hands.

I’m always a good lender, other then a small object that my brother long ago forgot I borrowed, I always return items. Let us say I’m keeping this object hostage for the betterment of my blog and my brother is actually lovely guy without the use of this.

The reason I’m talking about borrowing is because the images in today’s post are the result of my forgetfulness in packing to stay at a friend’s place and needing to ask kindly for a camera that is better then my iPhone (lets face it, the iPhone is no SLR in camera technology).

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Outer Phuket, Thailand

There’s a little thing taking place in London right now, you may have heard of it – it’s called The Olympic Games.

Once every four years, we stop and celebrate a legion of competitors coming from various backgrounds and strengths to compete with one another.

To say I love the Olympic games would be an understatement, I mean I have barely a sporting bone in my body, but I love to watch all the action.

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Beginning of the tunnel walk
Looking up and out
Hard rock cut out
I feel like this is ‘what I did over the weekend’ time on most of my posts at the moment, but I have been doing a lot and I might as well share photos of my explorations.

You see, even if I’m not getting on a plane, passport in hand, I’m exploring often. A month doesn’t usually go by without me driving off somewhere an hour or two away and wandering through landscapes new or old.

This weekend was no exception.

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This weekend I took a short flight down to a beautiful home for a Bachelorette party.

We arrived late on Friday night with my best friend and I wandering around the house to a lot of wow’s. From the underfloor heating to the library to the kitchen neither of us wanted to leave.

And both of us felt like we'd never been anywhere fancier!

Bright the next morning we began our Saturday by leaving the rolling vineyard surrounding us and driving into the local farmers market and picking up some sweets for what would begin the festivities of wine tasting, toilet paper wedding dresses and loud music.

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