Put Your Penis Pistols Away!

Hold a classy stagette*  and keep your dignity intact.

*hen's party for the southern hemisphere readers/bachelorette party for the US readers

I am not a fan of hen's parties. I find them embarrassing and degrading to the bride and the bride's friends.I don't understand why a bride's last night of freedom is seen as an excuse to execute a hurricane of sex, penis straws, mini-skirts and grinding with ugly men in crappy nightclubs. I was once subjected to a stagette where after arriving, I realized that the maid of honor was forcing the group to wear 't-shirts' to unify the group...I took to the t-shirts with a pair of scissors like a possessed Edward Scissor-hand and re-modeled them thus creating a more unique and couture look to the evening...perhaps not my best, most supportive friend moment, but nonetheless it made for a more exciting and original evening.

For this reason, I am not sure why I keep getting invited to participate in these events. I am not the 'happy, slutty party friend' and I often find myself sulking in a corner nursing a multitude of empty shot glasses. But, I recently went to Vegas (not BrisVegas, but a close second) for a stagette and came to two conclusions: (1) Classy stagette's exist if you want them to, and (2) The only way to do Vegas is with wigs. Perhaps there is a way to celebrate your sexuality, the end of your freedom and forge life-long friends ships without embarrassing all the invited parties.

But before I explain the beauty of doing Vegas with wigs, I will first discuss why it is important for the ladies to hold classy stagettes as opposed to the raucous, sex-infused trailer-trashy events similar to those I witnessed in Vegas.

If there was a scent created to attract stag and stagette parties to converge in Vegas it would smell like a post-coital explosion of old ejaculation mixed with a hint of Britney's perfume 'Hidden Fantasy' and a splash of fried chicken (it is the US after all...). The place is crawling with desperate, sadly dressed Ed Hardy rejects, and ladies in short, tight stripper numbers. The virginal bride does not exist in this sex-hole of pleasure. The bride usually has a sash, crown and is slurping on her vodka-cran through a fluorescent pink, spindly penis straw. Her girlfriends will be egging her on to dance with a number of men to give the idea that she is still sexy and can 'pull' or, they are dragging her up to a podium to 'grind' with her, providing a whole new definition for the term 'maid of honor'. 

Whilst lounging in the Palazzo pool club 'Azure' my friends and I were entertained for the afternoon in a way that no amount of Bud Light lime or margarita's could erase. On their very own platform were a group of girls in cheap lingerie grinding and pumping each other, flashing their boobs and drinking a white liquidy substance from a very large and veiny plastic penis pistol. They managed to corral a fine bunch of middle-aged men to happily lubricate the free show. Most male readers would agree that this is the Vegas they are paying for. As a female audience member, the show just sent the female plight back 50 years in the fight for feminism.

Put your penis pumps away, girls...it is time to give the stagette a much-needed make-over. Cue Stacy London and Clinton Kelly; it is time to re-vamp the tired and salacious stagette parties. Brides, you are the innocent victims here. The following rant goes out to the bride's friends:

Firstly, lose the penis pump and pathetic paraphernalia. If the bride is marrying a penis, they will have to spend the rest of their married life looking at one - why do you need to remind her of her impending fate on her last night as a semi-single lady? Instead, spend your cash on buying her a gorgeous dress, amazing heels and a manicure. Celebrate her sexuality by making her feel amazing, confident and in-control.

Secondly, (and for those who know me will be shocked by my next statement) relax the booze intake. Drink, do shots go crazy but feed your bride and give her lots of water. I saw too many sloppy bride-to-be's getting mauled. It is not a pretty sight.

Finally, invent a challenge that is both unique and original. We stayed in the Venetian Hotel and are all huge Madonna fans. We therefore planned a reenactment of Madge's 'Like a Virgin' video clip. I brought along my 80's 'Death Bride' wedding dress, dressed up our bride and (completely sober) we took her for a high-class fashion shoot. In support of our blushing bride, we all wore wigs. The wigs stayed on for the entire evening, confusing and delighting the drunken revelers. So much so that they would unabashedly cry 'That can't be real!'...(if only more people would do this when they spotted fake boobs, the world would be rid of the over-sized monstrosities). We went to an amazing Cirque du Soliel show called 'Love', partied in the nightclubs Tryst, Tao and Lavo. At Lavo we danced on the platform as good as the dancers - no grinding, or flashing of our crotches. We shot Patron and sipped our vodka-cran's san peni.

A classy stagette can be achieved. Perhaps wigs are not your thing, but find what works best for you and your bride-to-be. But please, leave the grinding, the penis-pistols and tack at home.

Pizza Fantastico!

Prosciutto Pizza and Phallic Banana Salami Pizza

We had our very first mini dinner at our new place last night. Inspired by our trip to 'The Italian Centre' in Little Italy, Edmonton, we thought that we would make pizza's. Is there a better way to feed three strapping boys than with a carb-injection of dough, meat and cheese? I would like to think that I was inspired by the film 'Eat, Pray, Love' (which I am really looking forward to seeing). I didn't divulge this information to the boys for fear of emasculating them. As it was, I made them eat the pizza with a knife and fork...

I can't take credit for any of the recipe's...I had a little help from Jamie Oliver, Curtis Stone and my good friend Steven. Here are the recipe's:

Jamie Oliver's Pizza dough (modified - original recipe here) 

To make 4 mini pizzas to feed 3 hungry boys and 1 female on a diet

3 cups of regular flour (Jamie recommends using semolina and Italian Tipo 00 flour, but when you are on a budget, regular flour will do)

2 1/4 cups of luke warm water

3 tablespoons of yeast

4 tablespoons of olive oil

1 tablespoon of salt

1 tablespoon of sugar

You can watch how Jamie makes the dough here:

The most important step is to flour the bowl right up to the rim and then set your dough in a warm place. I placed it near the stove as I was baking the pizza ingredients. Also, after you roll it and set it in your tray, spray it with olive oil before you put the sauce on.

Pizza Topping Sauce

I combined marinara sauce and tomato paste with ground chilli and pepper. It was spicy to taste. Mix well.

Pizza Toppings:

The first recipe came from my good friend, Steven. Perhaps he designed the pizza topping himself or he stole it from a shop in Brisvegas, I can't remember. But once you try it, you will dream of eating it every day.

Phallic Banana Italian Salami Explosion

2 Bananas thinly sliced

50 g spicy salami - calabrese salami
1/4 cup carmelized onion

Mozzarella cheese - enough to cover the pizza well

Try to make it so that you hide the banana...the thought of it makes people squeamish, but the taste is amazing.

Cover the pizza with the sauce. Sprinkle a layer of Mozzarella. Lay out the banana evenly on the dough following with the pepperoni. Sprinkle chilli over the toppings. Cover the entire pizza with mozzarella.

2nd Pizza
Proscuitto, Oyster Mushroom Pizza

Chad and I met Curtis last year in Vancouver. Chad was more excited than me. He has a thing for Aussie's.

Recipe inspired by Curtis Stone's Cookbook 'Relaxed Cooking with Curtis Stone'
2 bunches of Oyster Mushrooms
1/2 Eggplant chopped into thin slices
50 g Proscuitto
1 tomato chopped
handful of Arugula
1 onion, sliced for caramelized onions
4 cloves of crushed garlic
3 tablespoons Balsamic Vinegar
Slices of Brie

First, prepare the toppings:

Place cooking paper on a cooking tray. Place the mushrooms on cooking paper and spray them with olive oil. Bake for 15 minutes.

While you are baking the mushrooms, place the sliced onions and crushed garlic in a fry pan on low. Spray with Balsamic vinegar and cover. Stir occasionally. They are ready when they are brown and translucent. Keep spraying balsamic over them to give lots of flavour. Sprinkle pepper to taste.

When the mushrooms are done, set aside in a bowl. Repeat with eggplant.

Toppings on Pizza:
Cover pizza dough with sauce.
Sprinkle caramelized onion and prosciutto.
Arrange the mushrooms, eggplant, brie.
Sprinkle arugula, chopped tomato.
Finish with a dash of mozzarella.

Cook pizzas for 20 minutes on 350. Ensure you have cooking paper under the pizzas so that the base turns a lovely brown colour.

Wine Pairing:
'Harmony on the Plate' by Shari Darling suggests an off-dry rose with earthy flavour to match the earthy taste of the pizza. We unfortunately didn't have a rose, but paired it with XOXO Sauvignon Blanc.

The best part of the evening is making your guests guess the toppings!

Can you guess what is on it?

You Love Japan

You open your eyes, blink a few times. Your eyes focus on the colourful lights in the 737 cabin interior. You look around to see that you are the only blonde, the only one awake and your eyes come to rest upon the pretty lights above. You wonder if Air Canada has installed the swirling blue, red, pink, yellow rotating cacophony of colour especially for bleary eyed passengers like yourself, or if it is for the packed plane of Japanese passengers who love everything 'kawaii (cute)'. You decide on the latter. You hear the flight attendant announce the impending arrival in Tokyo first in English, French and then Japanese. You are proud to think that you can understand two out of three of the languages. A pervading stench reaches your nostrils. You look around and realize that the rest of the passengers have stirred and are breathing once again, therefore expelling the air that was locked like a prisoner in their mouths. It is familiar odor and you wonder why the perfumeries have not thought of bottling this scent titled 'Halitosis a'la Seaweed' before. You make a mental note to contact Issey Miyake. The wheels touch down, and with relief that you will soon breathe fresh air and wash away the breath of 400 passengers, you relax and feel like you have arrived home. Kitty-Chan is awaiting your arrival. She claps her hands in excited expectation.

Fancy some creamy collon?

You are thrust through the turnstiles of the Narita Express (N'EX) and proceed to find your allocated seat. Clutching your Japan Rail Pass, you greet the weary JR train attendant with a foreigner smile: friendly, open and confident, boldy stating each syllable of 'Konnichiwa' like a precocious 5 year old on her first day of school. Your new Japanese friend is already tired of you and asks to see your pass in perfect English. Things have changed since you were last here. Maybe the JET program is working? That 126 million Japanese people are finally learning English? Maybe the JET's they are hiring now are actually doing a decent job rather than using the year to drink copious amounts of Kirin whilst finding suitably compliant and blind Japanese wives. You settle into the hour-long journey to Tokyo and let the rocking of the train lull you back to sleep.

Shinjuku by Night

You are slightly overwhelmed in Tokyo station by the crazy bird-like precision of the commuters. The thousands of commuters move in a flight-like pattern without knocking into each other, criss-crossing and climbing stairs, chatting on cell-phones and navigating the confusing tunnels with exactitude. In contrast, with your semi-broken wing and awkward baggage, you look like a young birdling that has fallen out of her nest.

Asakusa Temple

Arriving in Asakusa at dusk, the hot humid air hits you like a wall. The 'unchi-biru'/Asahi Beer Hall' greets you and you easily navigate your way through the narrow Asakusa streets. You see a smushed senbei cracker on the ground and say a silent prayer of thanks to St. Christoper the protector of the traveler. Arriving at Sakura Hostel, you walk straight into Hitomi-chan, your very good friend who has patiently been waiting for your arrival for the last 45 minutes. You love Japan and all the people you met and have known since you lived there.

My favourite photo from the trip: an alley in Shinjuku

Mark was the first to arrive. You share food and beer and reminisce of times gone by. He tries to sell you an electric cigarette, but you decline, not because the product is bad; the taste and feel of the cigarette could very well tempt you to start up the habit once more. You promise to try to sell it to all your smoker friends.

Old friends in Asakusa

A restful sleep has you ready to meet the rest of your old crew arriving from London. Weaving and dodging the morning Tokyo commuters finds you once again in Tokyo station, this time your wing is repaired and you are ready for the battle. Tracey, Nick, Becky and Marcus emerge from the gates and hugs ensue. Beers are bought, shinkansen seats found and the long journey to Kyoto begins. Whiskey and raucous laughter at 12pm rings through the bullet train and our sense of being an invincible foreigner quickly returns.

Kinkakuji Temple, Kyoto

Tani House in Kyoto greets you like an old friend. Tucked delicately in the back streets of the old capital, it looks at you as if to say 'Really? it was just yesterday that you stayed here. Has it really been 10 years?'. Privy to Mrs Tani's private residence allows the group, if only for 24 hours to feel like they never left. Stifling heat, golden temples, convenience stores and beer gardens; a necessity for any Kyoto traveler. But it is the fleeting glimpses of the Kyoto Geisha of Hanami-doori that capture your heart and make you want to stay here for ever.

Beautiful Babes in Beer Gardens

Beautiful Geisha (photo by Nick)

Sadly your time passes too quickly and you and your friends are back on the bullet train, speeding through rice paddies to Kasaoka City in Okayama where you catch a short boat to Shiraishi Island. Unaware of how captivating the island is going to be, you lament leaving Kyoto. But your time is filled up with talking to some very happy elderly Japanese passengers who are on their way home to Hiroshima. All are over 60 years in age, and you remind yourself that they probably lived through the bomb. This thought makes you all the more enthusiastic to talk to them.

Kinkakuji Temple

Arriving at Shiraishi, you are astounded by the quiet and picturesque beauty of the small island. The windy and narrow path leads you to the top of the hill where your villa sits. Unfortunately, the 50ft oil refinery fire from it's tallest chimney replaces the red sun as darkness falls, but with a smile you think 'Only in Japan would this be considered beautiful'. Beautiful because it symbolizes progress and power. Thankfully, the smog covers the power station in daytime and by night, you are too intoxicated to care.

The view from the villa

Mark the Fire-Bug

The Moo Bar on Shiraishi keeps you and your friends lubricated. The cool green water keeps you satiated. You soak up the sun and fun-times. You revel in the cheap fish and fresh edamame. This is the Japan you had been waiting for.

Moogaritas at the Moo Bar

Stylin' on the Beach (photo by Nick)

Okayama city comes all too quickly. Once again, you are thrust into tall buildings and strange smells. Your group retraces their old steps to the Aussie Bar and Orange Bar. Reality hits you and your traveling companions hard; 10 years have passed and some things are better left to your memories. There is a sadness within you that could only be removed with Karaoke.

Oh Dear...

The yearning for more island adventures is within you and you direct the group to Naoshima, once again to recapture days of old. The mongolian pao tents don't quite live up to what you remembered and  you dream of the Moo Bar and Shiraishi. The heat is overwhelming, but the cool ocean acts a salve to the soul. The Yu Onsen washes away years of grime and grit; the whole island is an 'Art' island. You are treated with an elephant sculpture and stained glass windows as you bathe in the scalding water.

Yu Onsen, Naoshima Island

Okonomiyaki fills hungry bellies and midnight swims in phosphorescence bring back a flood of memories. A sneaky hot tub dip amongst stone carved monoliths sends you back to a forgotten era. It was a time of naivety, innocence, invincibility and irresponsibility. Japan was the country you grew up in. Became an adult. It was a place where you learned who you are and what you were capable of. It is your second home. You love the life-long friends you met there, you love the memories. You love Japan. You are so happy to be back.

Naoshima Pumpkin (photo by Becky)

Okonomiyaki (photo by Becky)

Naoshima Pumpkin by Night

The Last Supper of the Japan Crew (photo by Nick)