Not Quite Nigella: My Path to Happiness through Baking & Blogging
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Lorraine Elliott has long been a food enthusiast who believes cakes belong in an art gallery. But not so long ago she decided to ditch her day job as a highly-paid media strategist to cook, eat and write – even though she's not quite Nigella. Her fabulous food blog Not Quite Nigella is now the go-to internet destination for hundreds of thousands of foodies from around the world. Not Quite Nigella, the book, is the story behind this journey. With her irresistible humour and optimism, Lorraine reveals the pitfalls, triumphs and challenges of becoming a full-time food blogger, and shares the best of her new-found wisdom: the secret to winning a man's heart through food, the key to baking perfect macarons, tips on hosting unforgettable dinner parties, and how to create a successful blog. More than a celebration of food, Not Quite Nigella is the inspiring and delightful story of how one woman set about turning a dream into a reality.
admit that I am always curious to see the various snacks that a country enjoys, and in Finland the ice-cream cones were topped with flavours like the dreamily named ‘cloudberry’, which resembles a squatter version of a raspberry, with apricot and pale-pink puffs or ‘clouds’, and has a lightly tart flavour. I was in piggy heaven. The other way we passed the time was to take a boat out onto the lake, where the mosquitoes apparently left you alone. It was stunning, and Mr NQN rowed us around for a
That year there were only a few family-living-in-close-quarters incidents (at last count, only two sulky tantrums from the more delicate members of the family) and no random acts of Festivus conjured up. Everything was blogged and catalogued, mostly for posterity’s sake. Readers started to leave comments and I was delighted to see that there was a little community of readers out there. Blogging was still a hobby for me, albeit a rather delightful one. Even though things were looking up, not
within ten minutes of the city centre, but it’s not known for anything beyond inexpensive Indonesian eateries and a gay sauna. What was I going to do? A year or so later I could see how fate had been carefully putting things in place for me. Had I taken that job, there is no doubt that the blog would have fallen by the wayside and I would be posting perhaps every couple of days or weeks, if that. I would probably be stressed. I would be tired. I would still want to reach across the table and
Ungrateful, perhaps, but we just wanted something different. The brilliant thing about growing up in Australia is how absolutely multicultural it is. So even if my dad was monocultural my friends were not, and this allowed me to explore a huge range of foods from many different countries. A high-school friend who lived nearby was Russian and we would swap our after-school meals. First we’d visit my house, where she would fill up on my mother’s homemade dumpling soup with fat, juicy sesame pork
challenge and have us step out of our baking comfort zone. Sometimes they have driven me to the edge of insanity. One Christmas we were required to attempt the French yule log, which comprises six different components in a frozen dessert form. The six components are a dacquoise biscuit, mousse, a ganache insert, a crisp feuilleté insert, a crème brûlée insert and icing. This was back when I was in our tiny apartment kitchen without a dishwasher or air-conditioning, and it was a disaster. Every