This Little Piggy...

We've all heard the children's rhyme - there's the compulsive shopaholic, the Miss Twinset wannabe, the carnivorous one who ate the cow, the vegetarian one who clucked in disapproval and the incontinent one who should've been cited for urinating in public... unless he was in diapers, in which case, it's probably not an issue. Pardon? I can't hear you when you're talking into your wine glass. That's better... breathe between mouthfuls Miss Twinset. The night is still young! Ok... you wanted to ask why he would be in diapers... well, he is usually the littlest piggy, so it's reasonable to guess that he might be a child. Yes - or a really short, old man. Happy? Great.... Still, funny how as children, we never noticed that the pigs were eating the cows. Wonder if that has some deep, dark meaning...? Anyway. Back to my piggy :-)

My piggy was none of the above. In fairness, I didn't know the piggy personally, but I do know that he (or she) had great taste (yes... tongue in cheek intended). To begin the tale of the piggy, we need to go back several weeks to a casual conversation which took place with a fellow kitchen connoisseur over the meet counter of our local supermarket. We were discussing this blog and my quest for ingredients for dishes to experiment with. I mentioned a desire to do a pork roast, but alas - queue mood music - the cuts were unsuitable, too large and expensive and with a heavy heart, we tore ourselves away. Scoot forward a bit until last week while I was still down with kidney stones and a phone call from my beloved Father who informed me that he had not only found, but (be still my beating heart) had bought me a suitably sized piece of piggy to roast. Squeeeeeee - queue jumping for joy :-)

So, the piggy had been secured - which as the Other One pointed out, didn't take much as it was already dead. Yes, she was aware of the fact that it meant we had it, but I think her sense of humour was making a rare bid for escape from the vodka haze that it found itself in that evening! The question now was what to do with it? And the first person who points out that we're going to roast it, is instructed to slap themselves on my behalf! The question was what was I going to do to it before or during cooking? Was I going to experiment wildly or do something a little more traditional? Hmmm... Considering the state of my health for the weeks preceding the grand roast, I decided to go with more traditional. Sorry, I'll be a bit crazy next time (and you know there'll be a next time!). Miss Twinset was all for doing a Riesling reduction and potato dumplings, but I told her that was a dish for a different day. So she drank it instead. No surprise really :-)

Ok, so once the piggy had defrosted (it had been kindly frozen for freshness until I was ready), it was time to prep the dish. For those of you who haven't been reading since the beginning... step 1 is turning on the oven! In this case, the oven was only preheated to 100 deg Celsius (212 F) as I had decided to slow roast this overnight for maximum tenderness. It also meant that I could ignore the meal for the better part of 12 hours and still get it done :-) To prepare the dish, I peeled 3 carrots and an onion. This (the onion) was chopped into 1/8ths and then I took a sweet Golden Delicious apple and chopped it into 1/8ths also... and cored it of course :-) These were placed into the bottom of my roasting dish with a little oil and some soya sauce. As you can possibly see from the pic, I spiced these ingredients. The pork was also heavily spiced with an assortment of things including loads of black pepper, salt, garlic flakes, dried garlic and even some barbeque spice! Yes. I am aware that this is not beef. Barbeque spice is not an elitist spice. No matter what rumours you may have heard. Moving on... when the meat was prepared, I put it on top of the onions, carrots and apple. Nifty tip... before you spice the top of the meat, dry it off with some kitchen roll. My kitchen guru told me (and he's right) that this will help it crisp up nicely :-)

I then popped the lid on and.... What? You're interrupting me. Can't you just mix another batch of martini's?? Why is there a lid? Well, you need to cover it to retain moisture so that the dish doesn't dry out and burn. I thought that was fairly obvious? (Picture a manicured hand tapping me on the shoulder) True. Considering that the audience may have more of the Other one in it than Miss Twinsets... I suppose it wasn't that obvious. May I continue? Thank you. Ok... so I put the lid on and put it into the preheated oven. This was done around 9pm on the Saturday evening and I went to bed and slept soundly while the piggy was snug and warm in the oven :-) The following morning, around 9am, I took it out of the oven and added some more carrots (just 'cos I really like them) and put it back in the oven.

While the dish was keeping warm, I peeled and chopped the potatoes that had to be added during the final few hours of cooking. When I'd quartered the medium sized spuds, I spiced them with salt and fresh ground black pepper and then tucked them into the roasting dish like a blankie round the piggy :-) No, not pigs in blankets, that's a different dish altogether! Ok, so the spuds are in and - as it's nearly 10am on a Sunday, the air is filled with the sounds of a cocktail shaker being shaken by a pro! Miss Twinset has opened her Sunday wine and has decided it's a good vintage after all. Took 2 glasses, but who's counting? I asked her not to breathe too close to me while I was cooking as I needed to be sober to finish this dish. That and the fact that I didn't know how alcohol would react to my pain meds :-D

After about 40 min or so, when the potatoes had cooked (with a turn in the middle of the cooking time), I removed the lid and turned up the heat a little so that the top of the pork could crisp. I let this cook for about another 40 min until it was ready and then removed the pork, potatoes, carrots and onions from the juice in the base of the roasting dish. This was then placed onto the stove top and over a medium heat, I added gravy powder to the juices. It's important to stir this constantly so that it doesn't go lumpy. If you add too much and it turns into "one slice or two?" gravy, you can simply add some more water to thin it out.

This was so easy to do and it was completely delish after having slow roasted overnight. In fact, it flaked apart when I tried to slice it and the bones came away totally clean - to the despair of my dog who had been holding out hope that there'd be something in it for him. I did give him some of the meat, but only a little bit as it was simply too yummy to share :-) Out of interest, the apple simply adds a touch of fruitiness to the gravy and is completely optional! I could've made my own apple sauce (and probably should've as it would've been a great way to use up the apples that are auditioning for the role of corpse on CSI in my fruit bowl), but I didn't. Store bought can be just as good and as it happens, I had some in the cupboard.

Miss Twinset is lobbying hard for a Riesling pork dish next time round (I had a great dish in a cloister in Germany... if I find the recipe I'll definitely make it), but the Other one is mumbling something about using brandy or rum or vodka... oh wait, not the vodka. That's for drinking :-)

So.... until next time....

Comfort Food...

... is never going to be a salad!!

Ok, so as it happens, I have been down with a kidney stone attack since 31 August... hence the silence on the blogging front! Sorry. Pain trumps typing every time :-) Now you may be wondering why I'm blogging now... Am I better? NO!! Cough. Urm... No, not at present. However, I've got really great drugs and I missed you guys :-) Strange but true :-) I won't dwell on it too much, but I have to tell you that it's a special kind of pain and something you cannot explain to someone else. If you've had it... you'll know. If you haven't... pray! Pray that you never do!

Now, what has this got to do with comfort food you may be wondering? Well, the truth of it is that kidney stones and medication can leave you feeling very sick. It's times like that that you need to find something to eat that appeals to you and that can be a hard thing! It doesn't help to have Miss Twinset sipping her glass of white wine and nibbling daintily on a cracker that's oozing one of those cheeses that smells like it was kept in a college freshman's gym bag for a month. That is not a smell you want when you're feeling sick let me tell you! I asked her not to do that and she dabbed at the crumbs on her lips with her hanky (yup, still lace trimmed) and frowned at me while she delicately speared a preserved fig slice from the main platter. She and the Other One had decided that they weren't going to cook while I was down and instead they had their tipple of choice, a cheese and fruit platter and a mixed box of crackers. I'm tempted to say that they ARE a mixed box of crackers, but that is a terrible injustice... to crackers :-)

So. While she was frowning at me, I was watching the cheese on the cracker as it glanced around shiftily and tried to decide when to make a break for it. I had visions of moving a sofa cushion months from now and finding that oozing lump of cheese holding court with the small change and crumbs that have congregated back there. It's a worrying thought. So, desperate to avoid that, I drew her attention back to the plate before her and then checked on the Other One who was shaking a fresh batch of martini's, stealing ice out of the wine cooler. Miss Twinset can cook of course, we've established that, but I just didn't feel like any of the food in her repertoire. I also didn't feel like coaching her through a new dish. Again :-)

Now. What I felt like was bacon and "Corned Beef Hash". The hash is simple enough to make, but when it comes to comfort food - especially when you're sick - it's best to do it yourself :-) First things first though. I had had a craving for bacon all week and as this was my first foray into the kitchen (other than for an almost unending parade of marmite, syrup and peanut butter sandwiches), I decided to make the most of it! So, bacon was my absolute first step... Now you may be wondering what is in the picture with the bacon. It's actually fried potato skins... waste not want not! They're really yummy and since I'd just peeled the potatoes for the hash, it was convenient. I also fried them with the bacon, so they had a great flavour.... but that wasn't the main reason I got out of bed :-)

Ok, so while the bacon was cooking for lunch, I peeled the potatoes and onions and chopped them all. The onions went into the same oil that the bacon had come out of. Miss Twinset glared disapprovingly at me, but I have to say, you can't waste flavour like that. I asked her if she'd throw out the last half glass of a bottle of wine and her horrified look said it all! So, with her safely tucked into the corner and the Other One still in the sitting room battling the ever escaping cheese, I carried on with the task at hand. It's strangely comforting to be cooking - especially something you want to eat! The onions were cooked until they were soft and browned (they picked up all the great bacon flavour).

In the meantime, while that was going on, I had put the chopped up potatoes on to boil. These would be mashed with milk, butter, salt and pepper when cooked... YUM! I could probably have eaten just the potatoes at that point... I don't often eat potato anymore and it's a treat :-) It's also a fantastic stress reliever when you've been held hostage by pain all week! You get to bash out all your frustration and I think it's fair to say that there wasn't a single lump left in that pot when I was done... I felt a bit better though. Shrug.

Now we come to the corned beef. This is always a troubling part of the dish for me. After all. It's meat. In a tin. That has a shelf life of 5 years. All of this is ok, but I always wonder why the tins are rusty when they were only made a few months ago? By now, the Other One had joined us in the kitchen and she was really turning her nose up at corned beef on the chopping board. I forget how sheltered she is with all her staff. And booze. I admit though that it never looks as great as it tastes. The only time I cannot eat it is when I find a bit of blood vessel in there. It's a bit like vienna's or polony. Don't ask. Don't tell. "La la la la la - I'm not listening to you - la la la la la" Yes. My fingers ARE in my ears.

Now, back to those onions that you've fried... yes we did - earlier. Focus! Add the chopped up corned beef to the frying pan. At this point, you can also add chopped tomatoes (I didn't have any) and then you fry this mix for a little longer until the corned beef breaks up. You can also add seasoning like salt, pepper, chutney - whatever takes your fancy really. Then, you tip the mashed potato into the frying pan and smoosh (we've covered this before... it's a real cooking term) the entire lot around until it's picked up all the flavour from the pan. Then you tip it all into an ovenproof dish and sprinkle cheese on top and bake it briefly in the oven ... or, if you're like me, you just microwave it melt the cheese :-)

It's certainly the ugly step sister of meals, but it tastes really great!! Comfort food the way comfort food was meant to be!

Until next time...

It Takes A Village...

... or "The Odyssey of the Orange Marmalade".

But first... a word from our sponsors. Oh wait. We don't have any sponsors. Hmm... what to do with the 'dead air'... I suppose I could just carry on with the tale? You'd like that? Ok then...

It all started on a Sunday fair. No, I said "on" a Sunday fair, not "at" one... focus. So, it started on a Sunday, yesterday to be precise. And it was fair. Yes, as in beautiful, now are you going to let me get on with this? Ok, so the day began unusually early (for me) and even stranger, it began outside! No... I didn't fall asleep in the yard or on the front step! Alright... I suppose it was a little vague. After I exuberantly threw back the covers - scattering a selection of hissing and spitting cats in all directions - and skipped through the house singing to little twittering blue birds and cute little bunnies, while sparrows tied pink bows in my hair, before dancing my way out of the back door and into the back yard. Better? Puh-lease! Anyone who knows me will know that I'm unlikely to have jumped out of bed and I do NOT do pink! It's called artistic licence. Our sarcasm if you prefer.

So, standing outside by the pool - being shot rather direct and disgruntled looks by said aforementioned cats - I noticed a section of the garden that had been dying for some attention for a while now. Or, if you consider the state of it... living for some attention! I knew that there was a lot on my to-do list for the day, but I figured "How long can it take?". Let me take you aside right now and point out that any time you have that thought... Stop! Stop whatever you are doing or thinking of doing and walk away. Perhaps even run. For it is a well known fact that any time you think "How long could this take?"... it will take HOURS!!!! And yet, I continued. What on earth was I thinking? Well, I'll tell you what I was thinking... I was thinking that maybe this time I would be the exception to that rule. Let me tell you... I wasn't. Not even a little bit. It was a reality check. No... no money. I wish :-)

So, there are two hibiscus trees and a bougainvillea hiding in that lot of green and I figured that it wouldn't take long to rip out the clingy creeper (creeper - not creep. I shoot creeps, although ripping sounds like fun...) and weedy grass that had staked a claim on that spot. They were like the early settlers who fanned out across the land like a colony of desperate ants in search of a new bit of land to claim. They had carefully monitored this corner of the garden using an impressive network of spy bees and attack pigeons. It didn't take them long to notice that nothing much was going on there. So... they sent in the scouts. A few "expendable" plants - like that new ensign that shows up in an episode of Star Trek. You've never seen them before and the minute they get a line or a spot on an away mission, you know that not only is someone going to die... it will be them! So... these first, expendable, plants carefully set up camp in that corner and after a few weeks of sneaking around, they realised that no-one was paying them any attention. They sent word to the main colony and within a remarkably short period of time "poof"... there they were! So, I've walked past them for months, listening to the sounds of their parties and drunken gatherings (at all times of the day and night) and for some reason... Sunday morning it was time to EVICT! It was a sneak attack and one which I thought would be executed with the speed and precision of the attack on Pearl Harbour (which was horrible, but it was quick, which was the point I wanted to make), but instead it had all the stealth and speed of an attack slug. Yes. Slug. Not sub. Yes... I'm sure. My "quick" eviction project took almost 3 hours and was thigh weakening, back aching, shoulder straining, exhausting work. And you can imagine how much enthusiasm I had for even the idea of marmalade making when I staggered inside eventually. I was wiped out, but (evil grin) ... so were they!!


Now... you're probably wondering what on earth this has to do with Orange Marmalade. Ha! You thought I couldn't hear you mumbling in the back there! Well... it was important to set the stage for the type of day that it was. Otherwise... how could you possibly understand? So... having worked for 3 hours in the garden (looks nice doesn't it?), I went inside and was confronted by a pocket of oranges. No, I don't mean literally. They're oranges!? They did however lie on the kitchen counter and taunt me... You promised to turn us into Cinderella... you promised we'd be special... you promised it would be today... They were right. I had promised that they would be changed from mere (wonderful) fruit to something glamorous and desirable. I had promised that they would have a glittering future in pride of place. I just hadn't told them that they'd be cut, drained, chopped, boiled, sugared and bottled in order to achieve it. I didn't lie... exactly. I just didn't tell them everything. No need to alarm the volunteers after all. Is there?

So, I gathered a sharp knife (crucial to ensuring minimum discomfort to the fruit during all procedures... oh who am I kidding? A sharp knife is vital so you can work faster and easier!), a bread board, sugar (not pictured), juicer, oranges, lemons, lemon juice and lime juice... all the things I would need in order to do this. In the background of the pic, you may have spotted a pot. THIS is no ordinary pot. It is in fact a stunt pot. My usual jam pot was too intimidated to appear in this segment (and too small to be blunt) and so I had to employ a stunt pot. It is HUGE. Really. Really. Huge. I had to lever it away from Miss Twinset who thought that it would just about be large enough for her to make a decent punch in. To put it in perspective... it would have been enough punch for a block party... in New York! So I handed her a teapot and told her to make do! She's been in a sulk ever since, but I noticed that she was delicately sipping tea out of a fine bone china cup. Only - when she went to pee (she does that a lot. It's the booze)... I took a sip and it was not tea. Not even close!



Now I had a number of requests for the recipe and I'm sorry if you were expecting something complicated, but here it is... Oh. The other one just interrupted me to point out that you can get marmalade in jars. She knows because her upstairs maid brings it in on a tray with her breakfast. Sigh. How does she think it gets into the jars?? I'm going to enlighten her ... and you? Ok. SO I decided to use 5kg of oranges (around 17 as it turned out). First, I had to chop them in half across their middles (in other words, not from end to end. If you do it end to end you can't juice them. You'll figure it out). Then I juiced them all (including the lemons. They would be the little yellow things in the bottom left of the centre image). Let me tell you... after 3 hours in the garden, juicing this fruit was not fun, but I couldn't let you all down. As you're juicing the fruit, put the juice into the pot and keep the pips out. Now, I'll be honest. Most recipes suggest that you put all the pips into a muslin bag (musliN, not MusliM... this is a non religious specific blog!) and boil them in the mix. I didn't do this for two reasons. First... only the lemons had pips (figures) and second... I didn't have any muslin in the house *shrug*.



Having juiced all the fruit (finally), a task that took easily 30 - 40 minutes... No, I'm not kidding. I said my arms were tired and boy... were they :-)... May I continue? Thanks. After I juiced the fruit I was left with this bowl full of half oranges and lemons. That needed to be "sliced into strips"... Um. Well. As you can no doubt see, my marmalade is "rustic"... and by rustic I mean "chunky"... and by chunky I mean that I had more to do with my time than finely slice oranges! Besides... have you ever bought marmalade that was essentially orange flavoured fine jam with 3 rather embarrassed slivers of orange peel lurking near the bottom of the jar or tin? I hate that! I rather like the orange peel and so I make my marmalade for me :-) My blog... my kitchen... my marmalade :-) That's my story and I'm sticking to it.



When you've sliced everything, add it to the juice already in the stunt pot. Now add enough water to cover the fruit and turn the heat on. At this point, I added some extra lemon juice and about 1/4 cup of lime juice. You need to simmer the mixture until the rinds are softened. In a pot of this size, it took roughly 2.5 hours... so be prepared to commit a lot of time to this project (but only for this kind of quantity). When the rinds are finally softened enough, add the sugar. Now as you can see, there is 2.5kg of sugar in the pic (around 5.5 pounds). However, I actually added 4kg of sugar to the pot in total (around 8.8 pounds) for 5kg (11 pounds) of fruit. That is a S C A R Y amount of sugar! It made Miss Twinset faint and the other one subjected me to a lecture on diabetes, but I have to point out that you need the sugar in order to make this a marmalade and not a warm orange toddy. I did consider adding brandy, but I didn't want Miss Twinset to see where my booze stash is, so I had to skip that idea. Now you need to let this cook away until it has thickened sufficiently to set. While this is happening... pre-heat the oven to a low heat eg 70 deg Celsius (158 F) and put your jars onto a tray in the oven to warm. This is so that they don't crack when you put the hot jam into them. The only way to make either of my kitchen cohorts crack is to literally hide their booze, but I wasn't in the mood for that... it was such a beautiful day! Besides... the chances of them still being conscious when it comes to bottling, is next to zero... so why worry?



Now... this step (cooking it out) is likely to take a while. For this large pot, on a low heat, it was a long time. I'm not kidding. A smaller pot wouldn't take as long. I promise. By the time I was ready to bottle the finished product, the other two had long gone. The jars weren't hot, but it's advisable to hold them with a cloth. This is purely because the jam is boiling hot and you will burn your hands through the glass if you don't. When you've filled the jar, you need to put the lids on straight away. This will actually help to seal the jar and it has a satisfying "pop" when you open it... just like it's store bought cousins! I made about 18 jars (10 large and 8 smaller ones) and I have to say that this marmalade was fantastic and tart. Even with all that sugar, it has a great traditional marmalade flavour!


So... after all that work and the muscle aches that followed after... at least I have the yummy product to enjoy! And if you're wondering about the title... I think it would have been easier and quicker if I'd had a village to help me :-) Let me know if you try it (your own... not mine) and how it turns out.



Until next time...

Just a Bit of Old Bread...

You'd be amazed what you can do with a bit of old bread... I mean, for one thing, the other one's entire staff practically live on bits of old bread. Well, that's when they can find any. I'm not saying that the other one is "tight" (you could bounce a quarter off of her), but there isn't any room for her staff to have luxuries in her budget. Ok... that isn't quite right. The look she is throwing my way is quite damaging and I fear that there may be legal reprisals if I continue in this vein... so, let's get back to the bread shall we? Yes? Wonderful idea.

Ok... the bread. It happens from time to time that I get over enthusiastic about buying bread. Or to put it another way, I over-estimate our households ability to consume high volumes of carbs. And if you know me, you'll know that carbs and I are on really good terms, so this is difficult to do! However, it does happen that sometimes half a loaf will find that it has been unceremoniously placed in a bag on the bin for any hungry passerby to help themselves to. It must be a rather peculiar feeling to find yourself taken home by a young lady who so clearly loves bread, only to find that when the shiny "new bread" feeling has worn off, you are callously dumped and replaced! In fairness though, I try not to do this too often any more - the feeling of guilt and waste was getting to me - but there are also times when the bread will cower at the back of the bread bin, behind the "new bread", until there is enough penicillin to treat a small village. I hate that. It goes a peculiar colour and slithers out eventually like Jabba the Hutt, intent on kitchen supremacy! No. It is far better for the bread to go out the door and be used by someone who needs it.

This week however, the bread tried a new tactic on me... and to great success. It was a victory of strategic timing and a lucky break in the weather. In other words, this loaf missed bin day and today it was raining! So. There I was with just over half a loaf of sliced bread in the bread bin and a full (soft, fresh) loaf on the counter. What was I to do? And then inspiration struck. Colder, rainy weather... stale bread... comfort food... There was only really one thing for it. Bread & Butter Pudding :-)

At this point, I have to say that Miss Twinset is not a fan of carbs. Unless she can suck them through a straw and they're likely to cause a tremendous amount of intoxication. However, she's terribly intrigued by the idea of a dessert made out of nothing more than bread, butter, milk, eggs, sugar and fruit. I love simple things in the kitchen. I must do... after all, I kept them two around don't I? Hee hee. Ok, so as you can see, it's a simple collection of ingredients. 12 slices of bread, 100g of fruit, 60g of brown sugar, 3 eggs, 500ml of milk, 5ml of vanilla essence, a 'sprinkling' of nutmeg and enough butter to spread on the 12 slices of bread. Most of these really are store cupboard ingredients (refer back if you're lost), so this is something you can throw together when the stale bread presents itself. Now... I know some of you may be wondering about "product placement" in the picture. I can assure you that I do not receive any monetary consideration for the products that I use. Would that I did! It would certainly make life a bit easier (and by easier, I mean cheaper of course). That butter product for example is rather pricey and I have often wondered if it wouldn't be cheaper to keep a cow and make my own! Of course, the manure could be a problem... still.... :-)

Ok, so you start by cutting the crusts off of the bread and then you butter them. As you can see, I am innovative (lazy) when it comes to buttering the bread and I melted some butter in the microwave and used a brush... It was certainly quicker than painstakingly buttering each slice the old fashioned way! Once they're buttered (the bread, not the kitchen gnomes), slice each slice into 4 triangles and arrange them into a dish in a pattern of your choice. As you can see, I've gone for very much the traditional "pyramids of Egypt" design, but it works for me. Sometimes I'm not that decorative... after all, once you've dished it, no-one knows if you spent 10 minutes or 1 putting it together. For you though... I put in the time! Thanks. I knew you'd appreciate it.

Now, once your bread is resting in the dish and you've added the fruit between the layers, break the eggs into a bowl and whisk them. It's only right to thank the stunt hand for stepping in again. There's no shot as good as a genuine "eggs being beaten" shot. Even if I did have to calm Miss Twinset down when she threatened to report me for abuse. The other one was quite intrigued by what came out of the egg shell and how it changed... the best part though was watching her fall off her stool when I told her where the eggs came from! She didn't spill a drop of her martini though. Totally fascinating. I'll have to try to video it sometime! At any rate, once your eggs are beaten, add the milk and beat and then add the vanilla essence. As you can see, the milk and vanilla turns the liquid pale and it smells yummy... don't taste it though. No really. Don't. Don't taste the vanilla essence either. No matter how good it smells. I'm not kidding. Oh well - you'll only make that mistake once (I know).

After the vanilla, you need to add the sugar and beat the mixture until the sugar has dissolved. This is about the only really hard labour part of the recipe and even then, you could do it really slowly... it would just take. a. really. long. time. So, for arguments sake, let's assume that you did it quickly so that we can move on. Agreed? Good! Now pour the milk and egg mix over the bread and fruit and then sprinkle a little ground nutmeg on top. Garnish with a bit of extra brown sugar and then leave the dish to "rest" for about 20 - 30 min. This is so that the bread can soak up the mix. Or, for the other one, it was the time in which she mixed herself a fresh jug of sangria. It's not a martini, so at least it was something new... and I made her use that bottle of white that I was meaning to cook with and hadn't got around to using yet. It tastes a bit odd, but she's so soused most of the time anyway, that I'm not sure she even noticed. Waste not. Want not.

When the dish has rested enough - and you've scooped the semi-conscious form of Miss Twinset off of the floor - put the dish into an oven pre-heated to 180 deg Celsius. Bake it for about an hour until the 'custard' has cooked and the top is golden brown. Remove from the oven, carefully, with oven gloves, and place on a board to cool. If you're planning to eat it straight away, it's delicious with cream, custard or ice-cream, but in this case... I'm going to save it for tomorrow and take it to my Mom. It's a favourite of hers and I didn't tell her that I was making it. Mostly to surprise her but also in case I didn't get around to doing it :-) Hey... I'm honest!

Now... tomorrow is for making marmalade and there may be another surprise... who knows!?

So... until the next time :-)

All Domestic and Stuff...

So... tomorrow is Saturday, which is traditionally the day on which all my chores get done. The other one wouldn't know a chore if it stood up and slapped her - and having met her staff, I'm fairly sure that she may well have been slapped by her staff, if not her chores - and Miss Twinset is (of course) the perfect housewife and swans around the house all week "keeping her hand in" on the chores. She has a set of those ridiculously twee pink rubber gloves trimmed in faux leopard fur. I'm not sure that she actually does anything with them ... I mean really? Seriously? She has a little pink apron that ties around the waist trimmed in white ruffles with a little pocket on the front. She keeps a hip flask in it. I haven't seen it personally, but I would imagine that it's the only way she can stay away from her booze supply long enough to dust a doily. Now... I have seriously considered getting help (no... not psychiatric help. I don't need that kind of help. I don't. Why are you looking so shocked?!?!)... I'm talking about help around the house.

Ok... so the plan on most Saturday's is simple. Step 1: Wake up. Repeat until you have successfully completed step 1. Once up and awake, gather all laundry and set the first load to washing. Often, this is something simple like "towels" or "bedding"... purely because I'm still playing hunt the laundry and trying to retrieve things from underneath the still comfortably curled up and slumbering bodies of cats - who can make themselves remarkably heavy when they don't want you to take that skirt / shirt / jacket that they're lying on! While the laundry is happily drowning, it's time to grab a broom (no, not the one I rode in on... that one is stored outside the front door and used purely for travel) and then it's clear, tidy, dust, polish, sweep, scoop, mop, collapse. The other one is shocked that a broom is capable of so many things. I am shocked that she knows what a broom is!! Perhaps I should elaborate for the less domestically accomplished amongst us. Clearing is done by hand, as is tidying. Dusting is done with a cloth or feather duster (it should be noted that using live birds is never acceptable or recommended! Their ability to shake themselves clean is a bonus, yes, but it's still illegal!). Polishing is done with a cloth and some spray on polish. Sweeping is done with the broom (yup - just this 1 part) and the scoop is done with a dustpan and brush. The mopping is done with a - wait for it... - mop! The collapsing part should be fairly self explanatory.

Miss Twinset is rabbiting on about how she does all this in "mere minutes a day"... allowing her plenty of time for "more enjoyable and gainful activities". I don't think that drinking your weight in gin is a "gainful activity". OW! Did you know that ice hurts when it's hurled at you? On the plus side, if it happens to cut you, the alcohol will act as an immediate disinfectant! And her drink will get warmer faster :-D If - like me - you aren't based at home all day, then it's only reasonable that you will set aside specific time to do the chores that domestic life demand of us all. In my Gran's day... it was most likely that she would be home-based, but that was then... and this is now. So Saturday is for getting all down and dirty. With the house work. Sheesh... you guys have dirty minds!

Now - the other one has rolled her eyes more than once and she's wondering what on earth was so important about all this (tempting me to drag her into doing it all tomorrow so that she can be a more rounded person... I'd have to catch her first though and she runs damn fast in those stilettos!) Well, the point of all this is that this is what I "normally" do. However, tomorrow will be a day for not only being "domestic", but for being a glorified, undeniable "Domestic GODDESS"!! How? Well, I won't be borrowing any pink, fur trimmed gloves (thanks, but no), nor will I be doing the chores in heels and a tiara (seriously?). I will be (drum roll please)........ Multi-tasking! No, sucking an olive while drinking your martini does not qualify as multi-tasking... Neither does reading a gossip rag while supervising staff! Sigh. Now that we've dealt with silly questions from the Galerie d'arachide (peanut gallery), let me elaborate.

Tomorrow morning - when I eventually succeed with step 1 - I will indeed put the first load of laundry on and clean through. However, once that is accomplished, I will (weather permitting) plant my new trees into their pots (yes, new trees!! A plum tree and a nectarine tree, but more later) and also make a large pot of marmalade. These tasks to be completed in addition to completing the laundry.

I'm exhausted just thinking about it all :-) Miss Twinset is smirking and the other one is just gobsmacked that I clean my own home. It must be nice on her planet, but I doubt I'd like to live there. So - wish me luck!

Until next time...

We're Having a Ball...

Ok, so as it turns out, I am heartbroken. Not just a little bit sad, but deep down, heartsore. One of my cats had to be put to sleep yesterday and it's left a rather large hole in my world. Now, Miss Twinset doesn't get it... she reckons that there are others (quite a few in fact) and besides, it's one less for her to be allergic to. The other one is a little more understanding, but only because she has a few of those adorable "handbag" dogs, one of whom she claims is directly related to a Hilton. Personally, although it's cute, I think it's closer related to a rat than a Hilton, but who am I to disagree with a pedigree printed on the neighbours best dot matrix printer! (If you don't know what a dot matrix printer is, google it! And NO, I'm not that old!)

I'm not sure anyone really understands it, but there you go. Now you may be wondering why it is that I am blogging today when all I want to do is crawl under my duvet and howl at the world... well, there are a few reasons. No, I'm not drugged up (well, I have taken something, but it's prescription and ... oh never mind), but as it turns out, my sense of humour functions perfectly well no matter what. I think it's a manufacturing flaw and I'm wondering if I can get a refund, but actually, the most important reason is that she used to lie on the sofa next to me as I write and I used to read these aloud to her. Her opinion was measured in how many claws were slowly driven into my thigh or the volume of a purr, but I feel somehow a little closer to her doing this.

The other thing that I discovered today is that I didn't want to comfort eat (although I do have enough junk in the house to do it), I wanted to "comfort cook". Strange, but true. So... in the spirit of all things comforting in the face of absolute sadness.... Please join us for today's....

(Oh dear, I feel that it's only right that I warn you that I was using my phone again and as I said before, it's a wonderful phone, but a shit camera... It's my blog and I've decided that I can say shit if I want to ... so there!)

Dish of the Day

Frikkadels (or for those of you not living locally - Meat Balls). You're going to need some mince (beef in my case), some onions, bread, milk, eggs and seasoning of your choice. Also, fresh parsley if you're feeling adventurous. It's not really vital, but I think it adds something to the flavour. To the left, is 1kg of meat, 2 medium onions, 3 slices of slightly stale white bread, a handful of parsley, 2 eggs and enough milk to cover the bread. You'll see why later...

Ok, now you have all your ingredients ready, you need to start by decrusting your bread. You won't be able to see this from where you are, but the other one is dancing a jig... she sees it as terribly rebellious not to eat your crusts... I think her mother must've been a lot like mine (although without the money, the chauffeur, the housekeeper, the nanny and the Lear jet. Lord knows, the other one must've been raised in riches for her never to have seen the kitchen). Anyway, Once you have trimmed the crusts from the bread (pic 1 if you're keeping track), you need to put the bread into a dish and pour on enough milk to soak the slices sufficiently. While that is happening, you need to peel your onions and chop them. As you can see (pic 4 if you're lost), I prefer not to do fine chopping by hand and take great pleasure in using shortcuts whenever possible. Two seconds of whizzing and my onions are reduced to a far more user friendly size and soon tipped into the dish with the mince. I should warn you though that this will make you cry just as much as if you did it by hand. Both of my somewhat... how shall we put this? Useless? No, that is too cruel. Let's just say that both of them ran from the kitchen pleading other commitments, yet were back as soon as the onion had been safely added to the bowl. Convenient?

Right, now you need to get back to the bread... Yes, the bread that's been soaking in the milk. This is done to make it easier to mix in with the meat and as for why we do this... well, it helps to make the meatballs "stick" together. Now, take the bread out of the milk and carefully squeeze out as much of the fluid as you can and then add that to the bowl with the onion and meat. Then add your selection of spices - salt, pepper, etc, etc. Take your pick... it's your meal after all.

I also added garlic paste (from a tube), so it looks almost like a small white worm has taken up residence on the top of the mix, but I assure you that it is all in good order. Next, I chopped the parsley. If you don't have a nifty double blade, a simple knife will do. Again, you can choose to chop it as coarsely or as finely as you prefer. I did it finely as that is my preference. The other one turned her nose up at it... she didn't see the need for green, but as she is sitting at a distance merely watching the proceedings, I'm afraid she doesn't get a vote.

Next, as you will see from the pics above (see, I've made it fairly idiot proof for the other one. Miss Twinset has already proven that she has some cooking skills), it is now time to get your hands dirty. I did ask one of the others to give it a go, but the other one muttered something about an important call before rushing off and Miss Twinset apologised most profusely, but she'd just had her nails done (with real Swarovski, Iif you don't mind), so we had to hurriedly find a "stunt hand" and I'll tell you that the pay involved for this job was quite unreasonable. It was only a little raw meat and egg... the worst that could happen was to get sticky... I mean really. What babies!

When all the ingredients are thoroughly mixed, it is time to form the mix into balls (Oh grow up and get your mind out of the gutter!). For a burger, a large handful should do it. These are then dredged (covered) in flour, before being placed into the frying pan and pressed down lightly to form a "patty" shape. When they've had about 6 - 8 min on each side (Don't be daft... I certainly did NOT sit watching with an egg timer... it was a guess. I have a life after all and no need to sit watching oil heat up), remove them from the oil and place them on some kitchen roll to drain. This is entirely optional... I just prefer to have less oil on my meatballs :-)

The final part of my comfort cooking (and eating... 'tis true) was to whack - yes, it's a technical cooking term - two of them on buns and add some cheese! Of course, after the camera had been shut away, I added that dreadful tomato sauce for heaven knows I cannot live without it on a burger, heathen that I am :-)

So there you have it. The kitchen is a total disaster zone and I shall of course ignore the washing up until at least tomorrow. There are enough left for lunch tomorrow or perhaps a late night snack and somewhere... hidden in the back of a pantry.... I may even have some chocolate!

So let me love and leave you all. It's time for me to make some chamomile tea and lament the fact that my greatest furry feline fan is not here to hear this latest post. Oh, how she is missed. (The other one I'm sorry to say, was not missed and only returned from her "very important call" after dinner and I was quite surprised to see her).

Until next time...

In Praise of Apricot Trees... and Flowers!

Ok... This is just a brief update on the general excitement generated by the leaves that appeared on my apricot tree a while back... There are now three flowers on the tree and I'm quite intrigued to see what happens next... other than the tentative investigation of bees and butterflies. Perhaps I'll have mini apricots? All three of them :-)

More updates to follow...

Until next time...