Her Magazine is New Zealand’s only women’s business lifestyle magazine! Her Magazine highlights the achievements of successful and rising New Zealand businesswomen. Her Magazine encourages a healthy work/life balance.
Issue link: https://viewer.e-digitaleditions.com/i/49418
several people had got lost there, including a staff member who had become so confused in one of the stairwells he had to call for help from his mobile and be led out. Bird offered up a recipe, as did Dennis — who said his recipe was a favourite of his girlfriend's since it was low in fat and she was 'fat-frightened'. Liz had recovered by morning so we grazed gently on a hotel buffet breakfast and headed out into the icy streets. Across from our hotel was a Christmas market that we wandered through, disappointed to discover it was almost deserted and had a depressing air of 'the morning after the carnival'. There were fenced off areas of tiny pine trees with large, bright, fake presents scattered among them. There were giant wooden horses on wheels and armies of red porcelain Santas. And there were abandoned merry-go-rounds — strangely still and excessively lit up in green and yellow Hollywood lights. The paths were lined with lanterns and wreaths were suspended across them at 10-metre intervals. Small huts lit warmly in yellow were the only signs of life, welcoming tourists inside to buy Christmassy decorations and souvenirs. We continued on to the square, which was crawling with pedestrians and cyclists. We entered the cobblestoned pedestrian shopping streets and bought pieces of Danish winter clothing. We stumbled upon a market that declared itself to be a French market but was full of Scandinavian treats such as rows and rows of soft candies in multi-coloured strips. We walked through clouds of hot nut smoke and stopped to buy a bagful of the warm, sweet snacks. An eccentric bald man persuaded me to buy a cup of bitter brew from his coffee stall on bicycle wheels, which he'd covered with a large black umbrella. Rows of bikes were lined up against beautiful old brick buildings that were partially cloaked in enormous half- naked bodies on billboards. We went to a music store where Liz humoured me, waiting patiently on a drum stool in the guitar room while I indulged in a musician-style geek-out with a staff member wearing a floppy blonde fringe over emo eyes. I had been paid for the gig the night before with a voucher for Grøntsags Frikadeller (Vegetable 'Meatballs') 375 g sliced potato 175 g sliced carrot 100 g celery, cut into small pieces 100 g peas 2 free-range eggs 115 g breadcrumbs 100 g grated onion 60 g wholemeal flour 35 g oatmeal salt and pepper oil the music store. After being so consciously frugal throughout the tour, it was strange to be forced to spend up large. The walls of the store teased me with rows of musical accessories, tuners, capos, strings, leads, guitars, pedals and straps. After much discussion and debate, I bought a delay pedal and a guitar lead with an automatic kill switch. For lunch, we caught a taxi to Christiania, a community within Copenhagen that regards itself as a separate state, with unique laws and rules for its nearly 1000 residents. A sign read 'Christiania' on the entrance side and 'You are now entering the EU' on the exit side. As we walked into the fenced-off village, signs discouraged us from taking any photos and pointed towards Pusher Street — a lane of stalls selling bags of weed, cakes of hash, papers and pipes, and stalls and buildings covered in hand-painted signs discouraging the use of hard drugs. It resembled a Scandinavian village with some brick buildings but mostly wooden houses painted red. The dirt streets were littered with rusty bikes, abandoned car parts and mouldy baby strollers. The modern 'branding' of Christiania was apparent everywhere we looked, with Christiania flags flying and stores selling Christiania badges, t-shirts and ashtrays. Muddy paths led to living areas with houses and shacks of all shapes and sizes circling patches of long, uncut grass, sometimes with old caravans sitting in the centre. On a cold, wet day, the community had a sense of an abandoned music festival with only a few hardcore partiers remaining, but as we explored further there were glimpses of a flourishing social experiment. We stopped at an inviting cottage with smoke pouring from a brick chimney and hand-painted signs advertising vegetarian food. Inside, people sat along wooden tables on wooden benches, bent over steaming dishes of hearty food. The windows were thick with condensation and the air was thick with food smells and muffled conversations. We happily shared bowls of bean and cabbage salads covered in hummus. Then we dipped heavy rye bread into hot, salty gypsy soup crammed with beans, kale, cauliflower, leeks and herbs. DENNIS MEJDAL Black Bean Salad 2–3 capsicums handful fresh coriander fresh ginger (to taste) chilli (amount and temperature to your taste) 1 tablespoon of olive oil 1 teaspoon honey or sugar (to taste) juice of 1 lime 1 mango 1 red onion 1 425-g tin of black beans Cook the potato, carrot, celery and peas in water until tender. Drain and leave to cool slightly. Mash the vegetables, and stir in eggs, breadcrumbs, onion, wholemeal flour, oatmeal, salt and pepper. Shape the mixture into meatballs with a tablespoon and fry these in oil for about 10 minutes on each side. Bake the capsicums for 20—30 minutes. Chop the coriander, ginger and chilli and mix with olive oil, honey (or sugar) and lime to make a dressing. Peel and cut the mango into squares. Chop the capsicums and the red onion. Rinse and drain the beans, then mix with mango pieces, capsicum and red onion together and serve with the dressing. The Cookbook Tour Europe: Adventures in Travel and Food By Flip Grater. RRP $34.99 including free music CD. Published by Bateman Publishing Recipes by Sophie-alexandra krause HER MAGAZINE | December/January 2012 | 95