There are a things you learn when you do online dating. You learn about the different faces of humanity’s heaving, aching loneliness. You learn just how lonely you are. You learn about the opposite sex. You learn about how much your ego can take (from the incessant rejections; on most sites you’re alerted to who is checking you out…followed by a loud silence when they don’t make contact; on one site one works their way up the “most popular listing” by responding to all contacts, which results in a lot of automated rejection emails). But mostly you learn about yourself.

Photo by Tierney Gearon

I first gave the phenomenon a go a few years back. And I approached it as just that: a phenomenon. With my journalist’s hat on, I used my need for a column topic as my excuse for entering the fray. But, really, my excuse was that I was lonely and the tactic, frankly, was cowardly.  In the resulting column I wrote about how online dating is a great way to learn to be thoroughly yourself. That is, the forms you fill out to join the various services are a great way to remind yourself of what you like doing, what your values are, and so on. I stand by my theory, even if the pretense was a cop-out.

But I learned more this time.  This time I signed on to two sites. I’ve been on them for two months.

About men, I learned this: they like to hold fish up high in the air, go to a lot of events on boats toting bottles of boutique beer, “hit the gym”, watch Two and Half Men and Shawshank Redemption and read the Sunday papers. They’re “laid back” and “easy going” and “down to earth” (what Australian man isn’t!?), but “don’t do the club scene any more”,  don’t have time to read (except for aforementioned Sunday papers and Bob Marley’s biography),  get into a bit of the Foo (as in, presumably, Fighters) like it’s 1997, and take “selfies” in bathroom mirrors.

I also learned that young men with tribal tatts wearing muscle tees living in outer suburbs with Mum and Dad (a detail I gather by the bathroom accoutrements I can see in the reflections of their selfie portraits) are overly represented in the single scene. Actually I didn’t just learn this. I already knew it. It’s just that on online dating I’m connected with them (they’re overwhelmingly my main pursuers on the sites). I’ve written about how educated, career-orientated women in their late 30s and early 40s are overly represented in the Western world today, while for men it’s this younger, blue-collar demographic. It’s the result of “hypergamy“. And it leaves a huge disconnect in the dating market. Although, frankly, I find this kind of bloke more authentic and open with their intentions and overall spirit than a lot of the polished men working in finance, divorced and in their late 40s and 50s.

I learned I don’t like internet dating, but I stick to it to see if it can surprise me. I find attending to “criteria” is not how I want romance to strike. And the point being, I want to be struck. I want to be pursued, courted. Knocked over. It’s going to take that…a real blow to the kneecaps from a guy who’s brave enough to come that close. Which leads me to…

Let’s kick off with this: most nail polish is made with the same gunk used to make car paint. Yep, a toxic melange of solvents, film formers, resins and plasticisers. Whatever they are. But shall we move on? And see if there is some light at the end of this fumey tunnel?

Image via Favim.

I’ve written before on toxin-free cosmetics, safe fake tan lotions and toxin-free sunscreen, so I figured it was time to take a closer look at nail polish. I personally don’t wear the stuff. This is my strategy for avoiding toxins in most beauty products. But I know many of you out there do, so consider this a bit of a community service post!

For this reason, too, I’ve asked some of my expert toxin-free friends to weigh in on this stinky topic. It’s a combined effort.

1. Know your nasties.

Maria Hannaford at Econest works for an environmental organisation researching the impact our food system has on the environment and our health. She says most brands promoting themselves as “safe” these days will list themselves as “3-free”. This means they’re free of the top three nasty ingredients listed below. She explains:

• Formaldehyde. It’s the stuff they use to preserve dead things. I should know, I worked in a lab for many years and let me tell you, there is a strict protocol around avoiding getting it on your skin or breathing in its fumes! It’s a known human carcinogen and can cause ear, nose, throat and skin irritations.
• Dibutyl Phthalate. It’s the most controversial of these ingredients; it’s a known reproductive and developmental toxin, and is linked to hormonal and long-term fertility problems in newborn males. It’s banned in the EU. [But is apparently safe enough for Australians? - Sarah]
• Toluene. A possible reproductive and developmental toxin that causes headaches, dizziness and fatigue. It can cause liver, kidney and brain damage, as well as damage to a developing foetus.

Irene Falcone is the creator of Nourished Life, a site specialising in selling eco-chic natural and organic beauty, children’s and home and lifestyle products. Irene also suggests you avoid nail polishes with parabens, phthalates, solvents (ethyl acetate and butyl acetate), nitrocellulose, acetone and heavy metals.

What to do?

• If this chemical info is all too much, simply look for “3-free” labelling PLUS ensure there’s no ethyl

A few weeks back I shared my recipe for slow cooked lamb shanks with lemon and cinnamon. Have you tried it yet? Today, I’m getting slippery swift ‘n’ efficient and sharing a shank trick that’s fast, versatile and can stretch ingredients further. Oh yes, you’ll be shanking me for this shanky share!

Par-slow-braised lamb shanks…recipe below

So. It works like this. Shanks can be rather large, often 400g each. Which, even when the bone is removed from the equation, I personally think is too much meat in one sitting, for both sustainability and health reasons.

Also, one often buys shanks in bulk and one might not want to cook up a whopping great casserole with six or eight of the buggers. One might, instead, want to use the meat in different ways. Or one might only have two shanks to one’s name, which you can’t really justify slow cooking for 8 hours in a slow cooker.

Which is why I’ve played around with this idea:

par-slow-cooking the shanks first…

…then splitting up the meat, freezing it and using it in a variety of dishes.

Yeah, I love the idea, too.

The recipe below uses three shanks, which can then make 5-6 different meals (recipes below). Here’s how to do it:

Par-Slow-Braised Lamb Shanks