Now here I was thinking we would never be seduced by a patch of green and a few decent schools. What a change a few years makes.

A new house means a new kitchen everyone. And this alone calls for celebration! Quick Indian Cooking is about to get a new HQ. A space that is actually designed for Indian cooking. Shiny black floor tiles and glossy white units aren’t best matched with turmeric powder and lemon juice after all.

An architect is on the case, under my watchful gaze and a precariously-dangled wooden rolling pin. He has a tough job ahead. The brief: to create the most gorgeous, functional and special space for £2.75. Now there’s a challenge.

In the meantime, I am dreaming dreams about floral aprons, flour-dusted hands and perfectly-stacked rotis with two charming angels playing happily with plastic bricks. In reality, I’ll be in my heritage-look trousers and shoe boots, trying to feed them porridge and make the dash to work while they squeal “my don’t like it, my don’t want it”.

Still, they’ll have plenty of space to grow now. And eventually, they will listen to me and do as I say because I am the mother. Or so I think. On the threshold of our new home, I wanted to dedicate this post to all other deluded mothers and father out there, swapping their old lives for the uncharted.

This recipe for Dim Begun – a lightly spiced egg and aubergine saute – comes from no other than my little sister’s childhood friend and flatmate. It’s her mother’s recipe, which she sent to me in a series of bullet points starting with “ma said” and unsurprisingly ending with “but I didn’t listen to her”.

I loved it, all three times I made it. Even though I never did write the recipe down until the very last attempt. If change tastes this good, I’ll have a second helping, thanks.

Feeds 4:

• 2 medium aubergines
• 2 large eggs
• 1 medium onion
• 1 inch ginger
• Half tsp white sugar
• Half tsp cumin powder
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• 2 red chillies
• Salt to taste
• 2 tbsp oil

Chop the aubergine into small, bite-sized cubes and plunge into ice cold water. They tend to rise to the top, so I stick them in a pot and stick the lid on. This helps them cook later, without just soaking up all the oil in their pores.

In the meantime, chop the onion into small pieces and finely mince/grate the ginger. Next, bring the oil in a large, preferably non-stick pot to heat and when it’s hot, add the sugar. As it caramelises, stir in the onion and ginger and saute until golden.

Then mix in the turmeric and jeera powders, and drain and toss in the aubergine pieces. Stir the whole lot well together, cooking the aubergine. You could lower the heat to a medium and cover the pot, stirring regularly.

In about 10 minutes, the aubergine would have softened but retained it’s shape. Now push the whole lot to one side of the pot. Then crack the two eggs directly into the pot and gently scramble them and mix them into the aubergines.

To serve, stir in salt to your taste and chopped red chillies. This is simply divine rolled inside rotis or served as a side dish to rice and dal.

Something unusual happened to me recently. A new friendship turned ugly. Nasty accusations got made. Yours truly got to play chief antagonist in a real-life Lindsay Lohan drama.

Normally, I’d take a whiff and move on. But my testosterone levels have sunk to record lows lately. I blame motherhood. So I cried copious tears, while cradling a bottle of vino and ranting down the phone to an unsuspecting close friend.

A whole hour later I realised the poor man had slid off to watch TV. Not wishing to bother him with my theatrics, I plonked myself on the sofa pleasantly enquiring about the sword-wielding blonde gracing the silver screen.

It’s Kill Bill, he said. A movie about a woman who is betrayed by everyone she loves and trusts. Cue: more floods of tears followed by a prompt end to the day.

Sometimes in life you need things that just work. Like unconditional love. Solid friendships. Trusted kitchen appliances. Failsafe recipes. The things that you care for dearly. That take anything you throw at them. Last forever. And can be relied upon come rain or shine.

This recipe is one that has survived through thick and thin with me. Quick dinner for sister. Check. Lunch for toddler playdate. Check. Centre piece for dinner party. Check check. I’ve left the peas out once, taken the tomatoes out another time and used yoghurt instead, mixed in some fresh coriander and each time the result is tremendous.

The trick is to cook the rice separately while the prawn masala bubbles away and then mix the two together. This is cheating, of course (this isn’t), but it speeds up the cooking time dramatically and the end result is almost foolproof in its fluffy perfection.

To be eaten with true friends and plain yoghurt. Naturally.

Feeds 4:

• 350gm uncooked Basmati rice
• 250gm raw prawns
• Half pint glass of shelled peas
• 1 large onion
• 2 tomatoes
• 1 inch ginger and 4 garlic cloves
• 1 tsp turmeric powder
• Half tsp chilli powder
• 1 tsp whole cumin
• 2 black cardamoms
• 1 inch stick cinnamon
• 1 large bay leaf
• 2 tbsp oil (go on use ghee if you fancy it…)
• Salt to taste

Wash the rice and cook it in a large pan or rice cooker. In the meantime, slice the onion finely, mince finely or puree the ginger and garlic together and wash and clean the prawns. Unless they are ready prepared like the ones I use!

In a large pan, bring the oil/ghee to heat over a high flame. When it’s hot, add the whole spices and as they sizzle up the onions, ginger and garlic. Saute the whole lot for about five minutes until it starts going golden, then roughly chop the tomato and throw it in along with the turmeric and chilli powders.

Fry this lot for about five minutes, then simmer for another five. Next, stir in the prawns with the peas and cook until the prawns go pink and firm. Add salt now and check to make sure it’s well salty. Then simply stir in the cooked rice and serve.

You can add other vegetables like peas, potatoes, cauliflower just make sure they are cooked when you mix the rice in. Also, if using yoghurt use a full fat version and add it instead of the tomatoes.

There I was in my new 70s wooden platforms. Drinking Pimms on a boat. Dancing to Electronica. Smiling as I waited for a taxi in biting wind. Thrilled as I leapt into bed well past midnight.

And then the kids woke up at 5:30am.

The man and I valiantly took it in turns to nurse sore heads and play doting parents. As I lay starving stretched out on the once-pale cream rug being prodded with lego pieces, I remembered the glimmer of hope in the fridge.

Introducing my new secret weapon: K ji. Nanny extraordinaire. Superlative cook. This is the roti making, cumin seed/mustard seed loving soul I have been waiting for my whole life. (The kids love her too)

On Friday, I trialled her very own Capsicum Bhaji recipe – spicy bell peppers sauteed with gram flour, with just a hint of sweet and sour. It took 20 minutes to make. She expertly rolled the rotis and together we stashed the results into the fridge.

The keyword here being result! I slowly felt life return as I shoved warm rotis stuffed with K ji’s special into my parched mouth. A much needed lie-in or two and I’ll be ready for another big night. Maybe.

PS = Bheja means brain, and Bhaji means fry. Thank you Sandeepa, for inspiring this post’s title!

Feeds 4:

• 3 large capsicums (bell peppers)
• 2 medium onions
• 50gm gram flour
• Quarter tsp asafoetida
• Half tsp cumin seeds
• Half tsp mustard seeds
• 1 heaped tsp chilli powder
• 2 tsp sugar
• 3 tbsp freshly squuezed lemon juice
• Half cup oil
• Salt to taste

Slice the peppers and onions into cubes and set aside. In a non stick pan, dry roast the gram flour for about five minutes.

In another non stick pan, bring the oil to heat on high. When it’s hot, add the asafoetida and seeds. As they sizzle up, add the onions, peppers and chilli powder. Now stir the whole lot, mixing the spices and cookign the onions and peppers.

When they have softened, mix in the roasted gram flour, the lemon juice, sugar and salt. A teaspoon of salt should do the trick. Mix the whole lot together until the gram flour is golden throughout. The spoon onto a plate and eat with warm rotis or toasted pitta bread.

One last tip – this rocks even more the next day, so make extra and savour!

I am back at work. Six months with Micro Mini Basu just flew. He is now ready for university. Well. One can hope.

Seriously though, I am really enjoying motherhood.

It’s just that two closely-timed pregnancies later, I was beginning to go funny. You know. Saying things like “Don’t lick the floor”. Swinging from side to side sans baby. Counting the hours until a large glass of ice cold wine…

So how does it feel to be back at work? Wonderful. Monday to Thursday is a long weekend compared to the chaos of home. Uninterrupted cups of tea. Trips to the loo. Adult conversation. Shame it’s so hard to say goodbye to the bundles in the morning!

On the quick Indian cooking front, I haven’t been great have been pathetic on the blogging front. Behind the scenes, however, I have been hard at work perfecting a “quick” version of a tangy chilli Kerala beef fry. My friend Boobie fell in love with this recipe at her last trip to India and we’ve been at it ever since!

The trick to this recipe is to either slice thin beef steaks very finely and stir fry everything in a wok. Or to cook cubes of boneless beef/lamb/goat in a pressure cooker until they are virtually falling apart.

With the coconut, I nabbed a fresh coconut in my local grocer, smashed it open and grated and froze the flesh. Two months ago… I really recommend saving a stash in your freezer if you don’t have access to the fresh stuff. Dessicated coconut is a very poor distant cousin of the real stuff.

So here it is. A fresh new start for a fiery classic. Let’s hope it works for you and me!!

Feeds 2:

• 350gm thin beef steaks
• 50gm fresh grated coconut
• 1 medium onion
• Half tsp fennel powder
• 1 tsp coriander powder
• 1 tsp cumin powder
• Half tsp chilli powder
• 4 whole red chillies
• 20 -30 fresh or freshly frozen curry leaves
• 1 inch ginger
• 4 medium cloves garlic
• 1 tsp tamarind paste
• 2 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste

If using frozen coconut, take it out of the freezer first. Slice the beef steaks very thin and chop the onion into small pieces. If using boneless chunks of meat, cut them into small bite-sized pieces. Peel and finely chop the ginger and garlic.

In a medium sized wok, bring the oil to heat over a high heat. When it starts sizzling, add the onions, ginger and garlic, chillies and curry leaves and fry until the mixture turns golden in colour. This will take 5-10 minutes.

Next, toss in the beef with all the spice powders and fry on a high heat until the meat is cooked and turns a rich dark shade. Now stir in the coconut, tamarind and when it’s mixed through with the beef, add 2-3 tablespoons of warm water and simmer until it is absorbed. Add salt to taste and eat straightaway curled into hot rotis.

If using a pressure cooker, pressure cook on high for one whistle and at least 25 minutes on low. Don’t add the coconut or tamarind until after the meat is cooked.

It was a big day last week. My husband turned a year older. Except he hates birthdays. Can’t handle the attention.

Sorry. I don’t understand. If I could attract any more attention to myself, I totally would. But a blog, a book, two darling sprogs and several superfriends and family later, I am running out of ideas…

So every year I devise devious ways to totally embarrass him to shreds. Sooner or later, he will begin to love the attention, right?

Errm, work in progress. Last year, we did candle in dessert plus Happy Birthday sung in pitch darkness. In Thai. At a swanky restaurant. This year, I emailed 20 of his closest friends. Disclosed his real age as opposed to the one he’s been pretending to be. And requested them to make the man feel really special on his big day.

This was not a surprise birthday party, my sis observed. This was war!!

Suffice to say, I had a wonderful time. The expression on his face to find 20 over-sized adults spring out of a corner of his favourite pub paled in comparison to the total horror when the white chocolate fondant cake appeared.

All tried and tested ways for ultimate success. Speaking of tried and tested, QIC is in the spotlight for this interesting event, hosted by Sudeshna of Cook like a Bong (Bong is slang for Bengali). This is particularly poignant for me given that I have been missing in blog action for months. So I decided to crash the party and try one of my own recipes, which is vastly searched.

The Saag Aloo. British curry house favourite of two utterly bland ingredients thrown together for no particularly great reason. Cooked well, however, it is lip-smackingly yummy. A host of recent negativity was beginning to make me doubt my own recipe. So I retried it, with the addition of one extra green chilli, lemon juice and a small onion.

The result, my man happily declared, was a pleasant surprise. Soft potatoes nestled in this healthy spiced spinach clearly deserve every bit of the attention they attract.

Feeds 3-4:

• 4 medium potatoes (400gm)
• 400gm spinach puree (I used a tin)
• 1 small onion (80gm)
• 2 garlic cloves
• 2 green finger chillies
• 1 tsp cumin powder
• 1 tsp coriander powder
• Half tsp garam masala
• 2 tbsp lemon juice
• 2 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste

Finely chop the garlic and the green chillies. Stir the green chillies into the spinach puree along with the lemon juice, and leave to sit in a bowl. I used a tin of spinach puree because it was just so easy. Go fresh and puree yourself if you fancy it.

Next, dice the potatoes into small pieces no larger than one square inch each. You don’t need to pre-boil the potatoes as they will go all mushy and not get a chance to absorb the lovely spices. Chop the onion and finely mince the garlic.

Now bring the oil to heat on high in a medium-sized pan. When it’s hot, add the chopped onion and garlic and saute for five minutes until golden. Then add the potato pieces, cumin and coriander powders and stir on the high heat for five minutes or until the potato edges start going translucent. If the spices start getting stuck to the bottom of the bottom add a tablespoon of hot water and scrape it off.

Next add hot water to the pan until it comes half way up to the potatoes. Lower the heat to a medium and cook the potatoes until they are done. This will take between 5 and 10 minutes depending upon how fresh your potatoes are, and you have to stir regularly.

When you can easily insert a fork through the potatoes without breaking them, mix in the spinach. Add salt to taste, you will need a fair bit to lift the spinach, and simmer for 5 minutes. Finally stir in the garam masala and serve hot with rotis or just tucked into some toasted pitta bread.

Note= This recipe does not and should not use tomatoes, despite various recipes on the internet including it as an ingredient. Please trust me on this one, okay?

Now, a lot has happened since September last year. Micro Mini Basu, a little boy, arrived on 29 October 2010. I thought motherhood the first time was difficult. But a quick look back reveals those were the good days – I was still doing my nails!

Manicures are the last thing on the mind right now. I’m the mom of two under two. That’s a lot of nappies, tears and youth rejuvenating serum.

Still, I’m happy to report Micro Mini me is divine and angelic. God knows where he gets that from! Mini Basu, on the other hand, is shaping into a fiesty princess with a penchant for flouncy frocks. (Now, where did she get that from?!) And that I am still sampling the delights of wintry London, with the aid of a lovely Gujarati lady, albeit a little bleary eyed.

As for quick Indian cooking. Did I even know that meaning of “quick” before I had two kids? During the day, quick means whatever I can rustle up while Mini Basu terrorises soft toys or hangs off my skinny jeans, and Micro Mini gets his beauty sleep. In the evenings, it’s a real toss up between cooking and sleeping. Sleeping usually wins.

Makes the 50-slide presentations I put together at work seem easy peasy!

There would be no better to restart this blog than with another version of Dhaniya Murgh, the perfect recipe for the exhausted on a quiet evening. This creamy yet low fat chicken curry is steeped in two of my favourite ingredients – coriander and yoghurt. This version has more curry and cooks quicker with the boneless chicken thighs.

Here’s to everything bigger, better and quicker in 2011. Happy New Year everyone!

Feeds 2:

• 4 boneless and skinless chicken thighs
• 1 small onion
• 4 garlic cloves
• 1 inch ginger
• 250gm natural Greek (thick) yoghurt
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• Half tsp chilli powder
• 1 tsp coriander powder
• Half tsp garam masala
• 15 gm fresh coriander
• 2 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste

Take the yoghurt out of the fridge. Roughly chop the onion and finely mince of puree the garlic ginger. Cube the chicken into bite-sized pieces.

In a medium-sized pan, bring the oil to heat on high. When it starts sizzling, add the onions, ginger and garlic and fry until the mixture is golden brown. The  stir in the all the powders apart from the garam masala.

Fry the masalas for five minutes, adding a serving spoon of hot water if they start getting stuck to the bottom of the pan. Then mix in the chicken and seal on the high heat for about two minutes.

Next, spoon in the yoghurt, lower the heat to medium low and cook, stirring regularly for about 10 minutes until the chicken is cooked and oil floats to the surface of the curry. Finally stir in the coriander, garam masala and salt to your taste. Serve piping hot with freshly-made Basmati rice.

I know. Shoddy. It’s the only word that accurately sums up the abysmal rate of new posts on this site.

The truth is I ran out of steam. Pregnant for the second time, with mini Basu turning into the Tasmanian Devil. Mega intense book launch in India following a short break with the family. And never mind the PR job.

But let me put the violin away for a moment. There are lots of positives to report. Miss Masala is now up there with “Hot Desi Masala” in Google searches. Summer has been short but brilliant fun. And I’ve been cooking loads.

Just eating it all too quickly and passing out straight after!

This is one of the recipes that proved a hit when a girlfriend came over to discuss urgent love matters. A lightweight, meal-in-one Palak Murgh or chicken curry with spinach. Of course, who thought to take a photograph or, more importantly, make a note of the recipe at the time!

So try two, I rustled it up again for a mid-week dinner ticking all above boxes. Except this time I dived in cooking sans shower cap and eating with fingers, forgetting the big client meeting the next day. I swear his nose twitched as I quickly greeted him with an air kiss. The Palak Murgh emanating from my now truly luscious locks came a close second to the aromatic but turmeric-stained fingernails I was sporting.

Still, this curry was worth every moment. Here’s to more where it came from…

PS = You can use diced chicken thighs in this recipe but the end result will not have the same depth.

Feeds 4

• 8 chicken drumsticks and thighs, skinned (1kg)
• 4 cloves garlic
• 2 inch ginger
• 2 large onions
• 3 large tomatoes
• 2 tsp tomato puree
• 500g fresh or frozen spinach, cooked
• 1 large bay leaf
• 1 inch stick cinnamon
• 1 tsp chilli powder
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• 1 tsp cumin powder
• 1 tsp coriander powder
• Half tsp garam masala
• 2 tbsp flavourless oil
• Half tsp white sugar
• Salt to taste

Chop the onions roughly and mince finely the ginger and garlic. In a pan, bring the oil to heat on high and when it starts sizzling when touched with a wooden spoon, add in the bay leaf, cinnamon and sugar.

As the sugar caramelises within seconds, chuck in the chopped onions and stir viciously for five minutes. Next add the ginger garlic and fry for another five minutes until the whole mixture turns a dark shade of gold. Then chuck in all spice powders apart from the garam masala and fry for another five minutes.

If the spices start getting stuck to the bottom of the pot, add a little hot water and scrape off.

Now, roughly chop the tomatoes and add them to the pot along with the puree. As the tomatoes disintegrate, throw in the chicken thighs and drumsticks and mix the whole lot into the masala to brown evenly. Then add half a cup of hot water, lower the heat to medium and cook for 20 minutes to half an hour covered, stirring every five minutes, until the chicken is cooked.

You will know because the chicken will separate from the bone on the drumstick, but it’s always worth cutting a piece up to be doubly sure.

When the chicken is done, mix in the cooked spinach, add garam masala and salt to taste and simmer for a final five minutes until oil floats to the surface. Enjoy with rotis someone else prepared or in my case, a big bowl of steaming hot Basmati rice.

Mini Basu was strapped squawking into the back of a Mercedes. I shoved the contents of our entire apartment into the rest of the car. Got some white Versace sunglasses and shiny wedge-heeled wellies on. And off we went.  Driving towards three days of fresh air.

It was going so well there. Until I asked an old friend, if the lady of a certain age accompanying him was his mother. No, he replied, she’s my girlfriend.

I am happy to report that Shimla is officially the most popular curry house and takeaway name in the small towns in Ayrshire. In fact, so popular is this stuff, that the chef’s Sunday night special at Irvine’s oldest pub (and nicest) was a Lamb Rogan Josh with Spiced Rice.

Made me crave the subtly-spiced Adraki Gosht, or gingered lamb, I’d once cooked for our financial adviser. I sang its praises before lunch until he declared he hates ginger. With Spring well in the air, and quality lamb about, I’ll happily eat this along with my words any day.

Feeds 4:

• 850gm lamb shoulder (goat meat works really well too)
• 1 large onion
• 3 inches fresh ginger
• 4 tbsp low fat natural yogurt
• 1 tsp coriander powder
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• Half tsp chilli powder
• 1 large bay leaf
• 2 inch stick cinnamon
• 2 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste

Dice the lamb shoulder into large chunks. I use boneless rolled shoulder, which is readily available without a special trip to the butcher.

Chop the onion roughly and mince the ginger in a food processor or just chop finely. Marinate the meat in the yogurt, ginger, turmeric and chilli powders and leave to sit while you fire up the oil in a large pot.

When the oil is hot, add the bay leaf, cinnamon and chopped onion. Saute for five minutes until the onion is pale golden. Then mix in the coriander powder, lamb and its marinade.

Brown the lamb on high, then add half a cup of hot water, lower the heat to a medium high and cook covered for half an hour. You need to keep stirring the lamb to make sure it doesn’t burn. If the masalas start getting stuck to the bottom of the pot, add another half a cup of water and scrape them off.

After half an hour, take the cover off and cook for another half an hour uncovered stirring regularly. Add another half a cup of hot water if the lamb starts sticking to the bottom of the pot. The reason I’m being vague about the cups of water is because it slightly depends upon the quality of the lamb you’re working with.

Finish by adding salt to taste and a sprinkle of fresh, julienned ginger to the serving dish before you plonk it on the dining table. This is great with warm rotis and a raita.

Let me make a brief attempt to summarise the drama that has unfolded. Two main parties, both equally detested. Neither gets a straight majority. The result is Hung Parliament. The third political party, rises to prominence, in the bid to form a government.

Dithering political leaders are next locked in discussions about political and electoral reform at a time when the economy is in the doldrums. People’s lives and livelihoods are at stake. The result: the most unlikely political marriage in the history of the nation.

Let’s hope this one doesn’t end up in the divorce courts.

Of course, I am no expert. But given this was the first General Election that I have ever voted in, it certainly got my blood boiling. I decided to stay cool with a spot of summer cooking. With a Bhindi Raita – that’s spiced and chilled savoury yogurt with okra or ladies’ fingers.

Bhindi’s are infamously slimy. The trick to banish slime is to wash them thoroughly in cold water before you slice them. Now, some may recommend lovingly wiping them dry but I just leave them to drip dry in a colander over a clean sink  while I get on with the rest of my cooking. Then slice and marvel.

The way to get the bhindi really crispy without using too much oil, I have discovered, is to coat them in a bit of oil and grill them rather than fry. Tossed into ice cold, stirred natural yogurt, these little beauties will delight whatever the week has dished up.

BHINDI RAITA

Feeds 4-6:

• 400gm okra
• 350gm low fat natural yogurt
• Half tsp turmeric powder
• Half tsp chilli powder
• 1 tsp whole cumin
• 1 tbsp oil
• Salt to taste (black salt if you have it)

Prepare the okra as above in my introduction. Preheat the grill to a medium setting.When it’s hot, grill the cumin on a baking tray for a few seconds, then crush into a fine powder and keep for later.

In a shallow rectangular dish, stir the yogurt with salt to your taste and leave to chill in the fridge. If using black salt, don’t add salt here.

Next mix the okra pieces with the chilli, turmeric and oil in a bowl. Place on a lined baking sheet in a single layer and grill for 8-10 minutes until sizzling and crispy.

When they are done, mix into the yogurt. Sprinkle the fresh cumin powder on top and half a teaspoon of black salt (if you are using it). Serve chilled as soon as possible.

See also DK’s Bread Raita, MD’s version of Bhindi Raita, and my personal favourites Cucumber Raita and Anda Raita.

For all of you who have been following my recipes, straight talking tips and life’s ups and downs, Harper Collins has now packaged them into a handbag-sized read, complete with illustrations of vodka bottles and stilettos.

Seriously though, it took a year to get the deal, two years to write the book, most of it while being pregnant and then on maternity leave.

So the launch was an excellent excuse for a wild party. I decide to invite 200 well-heeled Londoners, book a bar in London’s Soho and order crates of champagne, vodka and gin.

Except I then find out there is another naan in the oven. Yes, people, micro mini Basu is also on its way! That would mean no champagne, vodka or gin for yours truly. Not even to celebrate three years of hard graft.

The immediate concern was finding a maternity dress that didn’t resemble a sack. I’m happy to report on a sequin fuchsia pink chiffon number set off perfectly by a pair of complimentary cubic zirconia dangly earrings sent to me by the lovely Sarah of Lu Shae jewelry art designs.

The launch was a huge success. Let’s hope some of you like the book! Now back to blogging, bhunas and babies. Wish me the best for the rest!

PS = the book is on Amazon and at most good bookstores in Australia and New Zealand, Europe (Belgium & Luxembourg, France, Norway and Sweden), Kenya and the UAE. India launch to happen soon. I’ll keep you posted!

PPS = 1000 thanks to anyone who follows this blog for your unstinting support. Bloggers Asha, Sia, Sra, Sandeepa, Indosungod, Srivalli, Jenn, Ann and Elisabeth also got a special mention in the acknowledgments before I ran out of space.