It's best to rise early.
Lying in bed promotes sores and depressing thoughts so up I got, made a pot of tea and waited till colour came to my face.
Mum was talking to Monty when I showed up with tea. Her brown age spots dotted on her forehead like drops from the tea strainer. She was perky and talkative though so I pulled up my ash chair and chatted. I'm enjoying these early morning conversations where all kinds of dreams and ideals flow, it's a real heartbreaker sometimes.
But our head to head was cut short this morning because nursie is coming and I have to clean the bathroom.
Later on, after the district nurse has left, I'll make some bread, a few jam tarts and then sit on my own with tea, wondering when on earth I'll ever start decorating the kitchen. It's gross.
Time for me now comes in hot segments. I'm either cleaning the mantelpiece or mum, baking goodies for everyone or secreting in my handbag letters from the council and making softly spoken phone calls thereafter. Gone are the days when, after happily doing housework or happily buying groceries I could sit.
Sitting now, is for the dying, idle or lucky.
For dinner tonight I'm making a storecupboard standby: Sausage risotto, it isn't a proper risotto but tastes terrific anyway!
Just taken a dozen jam tarts out of the oven. Nine are lovely filled with blackcurrant, strawberry and apricot jam, the three rebels sit oozing out sugarless raspberry jelly. I'll never go near diabetic stuff again.
Wednesday, 31 October 2012
Tuesday, 30 October 2012
A Couple of Ladies. A non stop post....
Off we went to the market where lots of people relaxed amongst the various stalls all of which were loaded with this and that and essentials like bird food, cow ears, umbrellas, dish cloths lipsticks and foamy bananas I loved it today and so did mum she even spoke to someone inside the charity shop which nudges the bank I nearly fell over the painted lady guarding the till was rather grand and mum seemed to approve and I liked her too so all well
We dithered outside Greggs on account of cackles of young women trying to control their pink clothed charges how untidy they all looked not an ounce of finess or glamour mum decide she'd like a sausage roll so I queued up and bought one from Irene who smiled and looked a little flustered it was hot in the bakers then with mum munching we made our way to the RSPCA shop where I bought an old fashioned glass water jug mums crumbs littering the floor like brown dandruff and so we keft the shop in a mess and headed to Alans the dry cleaners where a round faced woman gave me my ticket for two pairs of trousers the cost being nearly £10 then into see Joan whose blooded up face broke into a smile the size of a boomerang God I love Joan we hugged and nattered she telling me all about her daughter's illness and how she went to Southend after being told about the cancers suddenly I felt right at home I left Joan to deal with a male customer who reminded me of Baldrick I scanned the weighty shelves not finding anything for myself or mum who by the way was in the car her insistence on staying car bound came as a great big whopping surprise but she's the invalid and what she wants she get I then mourhed bye bye to Joan who was still entangled in the chatterings of Baldrick but Joan being Joan left him standing as she hugged me to death kissing me firmly on my righht cheek telling me not to forget her when baking day comes around
I won't I said and ran towards mother whose pasty face made me want to vomit but I didn't I drove to the chemist had a chat with auburn haired Veronica and picked up my prescription my prescription.
We dithered outside Greggs on account of cackles of young women trying to control their pink clothed charges how untidy they all looked not an ounce of finess or glamour mum decide she'd like a sausage roll so I queued up and bought one from Irene who smiled and looked a little flustered it was hot in the bakers then with mum munching we made our way to the RSPCA shop where I bought an old fashioned glass water jug mums crumbs littering the floor like brown dandruff and so we keft the shop in a mess and headed to Alans the dry cleaners where a round faced woman gave me my ticket for two pairs of trousers the cost being nearly £10 then into see Joan whose blooded up face broke into a smile the size of a boomerang God I love Joan we hugged and nattered she telling me all about her daughter's illness and how she went to Southend after being told about the cancers suddenly I felt right at home I left Joan to deal with a male customer who reminded me of Baldrick I scanned the weighty shelves not finding anything for myself or mum who by the way was in the car her insistence on staying car bound came as a great big whopping surprise but she's the invalid and what she wants she get I then mourhed bye bye to Joan who was still entangled in the chatterings of Baldrick but Joan being Joan left him standing as she hugged me to death kissing me firmly on my righht cheek telling me not to forget her when baking day comes around
I won't I said and ran towards mother whose pasty face made me want to vomit but I didn't I drove to the chemist had a chat with auburn haired Veronica and picked up my prescription my prescription.
Monday, 29 October 2012
Happy Cooking
......I've just spent a restful couple of hours making a large shiny loaf of bread and flat Cornish Pasty Pie.
The bread is baking in one of those cheapo big use once kind of foil baking tins and I have to say that after a quick peek the loaf is looking fantastically brown and shiny and is feeling as light as a petal.
The Cornish Pasty Pie izza a mash up of an ordinary Minced Beef Pie and a Cornish Pasty, both, by the way, Mary Berry recipes. And as usual I made too much filling (see below) so being inventive I used a large solid roasting pan in which to cook the thing.
Into the bowl went::
500g minced beef.
a large finely chopped onion
two small diced potatoes
half a cup of chopped swede
a few good shakes of Worcestershire sauce ( in a Cornish pasty pie?) Ssssh.
a crushed beef oxo cube
a few tablespoons of cold water
lots of black pepper and a little salt.
This lot was mixed and put onto the shortcrust pastry base then covered with the pastry lid. Crimped, slashed and glazed with beaten egg.
I'll bake it for a good while probably 45 minutes and serve with mashed potatoes and baked beans. Mum and Mr H will have their usual mustard on the side, I'll go childlike and have tomato ketchup..
For sweet....(love that word and alternate name for 'afters') I've concocted a sponge pudding which will be nuked for a few minutes.
See recipe below.
This is below.
Butter a 1 pint pudding basin and place some brown sugar in it. On top of the sugar put three tinned apricots then top with a very basic pudding mix. Margarine, sugar, egg, milk, flour....to which a teaspoon of ground ginger has been cleverly added.
I'll be able to nuke this on account of now being in possession of an excellent *Panasonic Microwave Oven so generously given to me by my friends, Mr and Mrs Hairy Suit. Thanks guys no more steamed windows...
A jug of Bird's custard is the only accessory required.
So dinner is pie and pudding. A fat affair. But a happy affair.
* My previous oven caught fire.
The bread is baking in one of those cheapo big use once kind of foil baking tins and I have to say that after a quick peek the loaf is looking fantastically brown and shiny and is feeling as light as a petal.
The Cornish Pasty Pie izza a mash up of an ordinary Minced Beef Pie and a Cornish Pasty, both, by the way, Mary Berry recipes. And as usual I made too much filling (see below) so being inventive I used a large solid roasting pan in which to cook the thing.
Into the bowl went::
500g minced beef.
a large finely chopped onion
two small diced potatoes
half a cup of chopped swede
a few good shakes of Worcestershire sauce ( in a Cornish pasty pie?) Ssssh.
a crushed beef oxo cube
a few tablespoons of cold water
lots of black pepper and a little salt.
This lot was mixed and put onto the shortcrust pastry base then covered with the pastry lid. Crimped, slashed and glazed with beaten egg.
I'll bake it for a good while probably 45 minutes and serve with mashed potatoes and baked beans. Mum and Mr H will have their usual mustard on the side, I'll go childlike and have tomato ketchup..
For sweet....(love that word and alternate name for 'afters') I've concocted a sponge pudding which will be nuked for a few minutes.
See recipe below.
This is below.
Butter a 1 pint pudding basin and place some brown sugar in it. On top of the sugar put three tinned apricots then top with a very basic pudding mix. Margarine, sugar, egg, milk, flour....to which a teaspoon of ground ginger has been cleverly added.
I'll be able to nuke this on account of now being in possession of an excellent *Panasonic Microwave Oven so generously given to me by my friends, Mr and Mrs Hairy Suit. Thanks guys no more steamed windows...
A jug of Bird's custard is the only accessory required.
So dinner is pie and pudding. A fat affair. But a happy affair.
* My previous oven caught fire.
Spent a good time with mum this morning me sidling up to the bedside with a kitchen chair while she smiled... Does it for me dearie!
Yakked on like two over painted parrots then went out (after much to-ing and fro-ing regarding what to wear and painkillers) but I locked the door shortly before 11.
Hockley was lively.
Slow snakes of older people worming their way in and out of shops all seemingly in worlds of their own. Bump bump ooh sorry blah etc...
Mum bought her usual box of books, me grabbing yorkshire pudding tins, four dariole tins, blue plastic jug and I, Robot.
Also picked up for a snip Josceline Dimbleby's Mince Cookbook.
Having so many heavy bags hanging orf the wheelchair made getting in and out of shops a little difficult but an angel of say 50+ did aid our exiting of the sweet shop by rushing to grab hold of the door.
And as the wind blew so mum's fine hair stood up like terrified stick insects. She really must get it cut.
Me, I looked like a cross between a saint and a killer auntie.
Home now and as soon as I finish here I'll make dinner for mum then make hay for meself.
(bread and Cornish pastie pie)
Sex For Carers.com. is now defunct
Yakked on like two over painted parrots then went out (after much to-ing and fro-ing regarding what to wear and painkillers) but I locked the door shortly before 11.
Hockley was lively.
Slow snakes of older people worming their way in and out of shops all seemingly in worlds of their own. Bump bump ooh sorry blah etc...
Mum bought her usual box of books, me grabbing yorkshire pudding tins, four dariole tins, blue plastic jug and I, Robot.
Also picked up for a snip Josceline Dimbleby's Mince Cookbook.
Having so many heavy bags hanging orf the wheelchair made getting in and out of shops a little difficult but an angel of say 50+ did aid our exiting of the sweet shop by rushing to grab hold of the door.
And as the wind blew so mum's fine hair stood up like terrified stick insects. She really must get it cut.
Me, I looked like a cross between a saint and a killer auntie.
Home now and as soon as I finish here I'll make dinner for mum then make hay for meself.
(bread and Cornish pastie pie)
Sex For Carers.com. is now defunct
Sunday, 28 October 2012
Friday, 26 October 2012
Fifty Shades of Duck Egg Blue
.I thought today would the ideal day for Mother and myself to pop into Homebase so with my Carer's Allowance in me handbag I drove to Purdey's Industrial Estate. A miserable looking community scattered with boring white painted buildings and large lorries. But I had to go there today because otherwise it would have meant leading Mr H around other home improvement joints tomorrow, and there was no way I was a gonna face that. For pitys sake this week has been bad enough so the thought of inviting more stress was out of the question. So Friday morning in Homebase it was.
The tired looking redhead leaning on the till got flustered when I asked for a little trolley for the little wheelchair. "Er...." she said and pressed a button which brought forth slowly another creased face old trout.
"Need a special trolley for the wheelchair" said redhead
Away went trout number two mumbling...
But Mother and I were ok, we're getting used to dealing with sorts like this. I only wished they'd recognize mum as a legitimate, if silent, customer who is just like all customers; she wants to be spoken to rather than treated like she doesn't exist and prefers it when people don't talk over her head...... (by the way one of the worst exponents of that was blood taker Pauline who on Tuesday completely ignored mum speaking instead to me about 'her'.."When was 'her' last hospital visit?" etc etc.
I digress.
We got the trolley and redhead smiled apologetically saying "Sorry took so long"
Steering mum is awkward with trolley attached and I sometimes knock down a few things but Homebase was spacious so we glided calamity free.
First thing to load was kitchen wall paint. I plumped for Duck Egg blue. Ok Duck Egg blue is a regular colour, much gentler than sky blue but I didn't know there were so many Duck Blues. A lighter duck, a greyer duck and a gaudy duck...But as I carefully placed the tin the trolley I knew I'd found the right one.
"Tile paint?" I asked 50+ floorwalker Roy "Where is it?"
Instead of pointing and giving directions Roy took me there, oh did he...Took me and mum and wheelchair and trolley straight to shelves and shelves of paint.
"What culler y'want and wherz it going?
"White please Roy, splashback dear." Said I knowing my brilliant smile would bring forth one from 'im.
I was right.
A great whale sized smile enveloped his small face "Ronseal alright?"
Being a mischievous flirt I piped up..
"I don't know, is he?"
Laugh...You'd have thought I'd told the Joke of the Century.
Roy, still grinning, dropped Ron Seal in me trolley saying if there was anything else just give him a call.
Next aisle was the brush one where I fingered through millions of expensive brushes made of cow hair or chinchilla or something but eventually plumping for two regular basic man made plastic types. Also picked up a basic Roller.
By now mum was fluttery and pale and I didn't like the look of her so made a bee line for Uncle Roy who immediately ran orf to get mum a cup of water.
Roy was kindly, talking to mum instead of me.
After a few moans and sips we trundled on choosing a small can of brilliant white gloss for the cupboards, cheapo polyfilla and sugarsoap.
We paid Redhead and she redeemed herself by offering to help me to my car.
"We're alright, thank you" And orf we went mother and I loaded with fun stuff for John's weekend:)
Going home wasn't a straight trek, we stopped orf at a charity shop where mum bought three Jeffrey Archer books and I bought a pair of sensible shoes for Mr Horsehound.
Home in never ending rain to a light dinner of Scotch broth and buttered roll (mum) and crackers and cheese triangles for me.
Apart from mum's weakness by the matt emulsions we enjoyed our shopping trip and that's what it is all about. Right Roy? !
The tired looking redhead leaning on the till got flustered when I asked for a little trolley for the little wheelchair. "Er...." she said and pressed a button which brought forth slowly another creased face old trout.
"Need a special trolley for the wheelchair" said redhead
Away went trout number two mumbling...
But Mother and I were ok, we're getting used to dealing with sorts like this. I only wished they'd recognize mum as a legitimate, if silent, customer who is just like all customers; she wants to be spoken to rather than treated like she doesn't exist and prefers it when people don't talk over her head...... (by the way one of the worst exponents of that was blood taker Pauline who on Tuesday completely ignored mum speaking instead to me about 'her'.."When was 'her' last hospital visit?" etc etc.
I digress.
We got the trolley and redhead smiled apologetically saying "Sorry took so long"
Steering mum is awkward with trolley attached and I sometimes knock down a few things but Homebase was spacious so we glided calamity free.
First thing to load was kitchen wall paint. I plumped for Duck Egg blue. Ok Duck Egg blue is a regular colour, much gentler than sky blue but I didn't know there were so many Duck Blues. A lighter duck, a greyer duck and a gaudy duck...But as I carefully placed the tin the trolley I knew I'd found the right one.
"Tile paint?" I asked 50+ floorwalker Roy "Where is it?"
Instead of pointing and giving directions Roy took me there, oh did he...Took me and mum and wheelchair and trolley straight to shelves and shelves of paint.
"What culler y'want and wherz it going?
"White please Roy, splashback dear." Said I knowing my brilliant smile would bring forth one from 'im.
I was right.
A great whale sized smile enveloped his small face "Ronseal alright?"
Being a mischievous flirt I piped up..
"I don't know, is he?"
Laugh...You'd have thought I'd told the Joke of the Century.
Roy, still grinning, dropped Ron Seal in me trolley saying if there was anything else just give him a call.
Next aisle was the brush one where I fingered through millions of expensive brushes made of cow hair or chinchilla or something but eventually plumping for two regular basic man made plastic types. Also picked up a basic Roller.
By now mum was fluttery and pale and I didn't like the look of her so made a bee line for Uncle Roy who immediately ran orf to get mum a cup of water.
Roy was kindly, talking to mum instead of me.
After a few moans and sips we trundled on choosing a small can of brilliant white gloss for the cupboards, cheapo polyfilla and sugarsoap.
We paid Redhead and she redeemed herself by offering to help me to my car.
"We're alright, thank you" And orf we went mother and I loaded with fun stuff for John's weekend:)
Going home wasn't a straight trek, we stopped orf at a charity shop where mum bought three Jeffrey Archer books and I bought a pair of sensible shoes for Mr Horsehound.
Home in never ending rain to a light dinner of Scotch broth and buttered roll (mum) and crackers and cheese triangles for me.
Apart from mum's weakness by the matt emulsions we enjoyed our shopping trip and that's what it is all about. Right Roy? !
Wednesday, 24 October 2012
The Mixing Bowl
Today into my enormous blue one I put flour, cinnamon, mixed spice and ginger...Then soft margarine, golden syrup, egg, milk and sugar..beat it well then, with grubby wooden spoon in sink, I scattered lots of slivered almonds into a greased fluted bun tin...
Mix made...And onto the almonds it fell in gentle loving spoonfuls.
When baked these funny little upside down delicacies are called Coburg Buns. Gorgeous with a cup of tea but wickedly good dipped into coffee.
The Baking Bug has really got me, got me so bad that I'm either baking or reading about baking or talking about baking and if I'm not do any of those I'm looking at three tiered cake plates loaded with bakedness.
Mother thinks I overdo it. I don't. I love it..one can overdo love. Baking and feeding people makes me happy and I need all the happy I can lay my floured mitts on:)
Cooking today will be Cumberland sausages with mash and Mary Berry's onion gravy. For veg... steamed cauliflower and tinned peas.
Pud will be Chocolate Castle Puddings and yoghurt.
Talking of tartness I found an old cook book at mum's...Elizabeth Craig's Simple Cooking published 1934:(
Brains, calves feet and cakes....Miss Craig....."It's no good telling me that you can't afford to be a good cook. You can't afford not to be one. The less money you have to spend the more you should know about cooking. If I had my way I'd teach every girl to make the most of every scrap of food. It's nonsense to say a good cook is born, not made"
Mix made...And onto the almonds it fell in gentle loving spoonfuls.
When baked these funny little upside down delicacies are called Coburg Buns. Gorgeous with a cup of tea but wickedly good dipped into coffee.
The Baking Bug has really got me, got me so bad that I'm either baking or reading about baking or talking about baking and if I'm not do any of those I'm looking at three tiered cake plates loaded with bakedness.
Mother thinks I overdo it. I don't. I love it..one can overdo love. Baking and feeding people makes me happy and I need all the happy I can lay my floured mitts on:)
Cooking today will be Cumberland sausages with mash and Mary Berry's onion gravy. For veg... steamed cauliflower and tinned peas.
Pud will be Chocolate Castle Puddings and yoghurt.
Talking of tartness I found an old cook book at mum's...Elizabeth Craig's Simple Cooking published 1934:(
Brains, calves feet and cakes....Miss Craig....."It's no good telling me that you can't afford to be a good cook. You can't afford not to be one. The less money you have to spend the more you should know about cooking. If I had my way I'd teach every girl to make the most of every scrap of food. It's nonsense to say a good cook is born, not made"
Monday, 22 October 2012
Custard Creams
These beauties are the best biscuits I've ever made.
A mouthwatering butter cream filling sandwiched between crisp shortbread type biscuits. Divine.
To offset the richness of the custard creams, a few wedges of warmly spiced Gingerbread.
To offset the richness of the custard creams, a few wedges of warmly spiced Gingerbread.
Saturday, 20 October 2012
Tea Break Natter
...........Square Gingerbread baking. Love the way the warm milk froths when I add the bicarb.
..........Pizza for tonight so have some bread dough proving on the windowsill, wondering what the pigeons think as they hop around picking and pecking seeds and nuts. Window is closed so not a chance of them, any of them, entering the bungalow.
Seeing as National Baking Week is coming to its end I thought I'd go all out today by making some lovely tea time goodies.
Gingerbread, as I've said, is baking. Will if time and thighs allow, attempt to make a batch of Custard Cream Biscuits. Found the recipe in Jo Wheatley's new book. Seems simple enough just need to hunt down some unwarped baking tins.
Talking of cookies, I made oatie ones recently which went down well with everyone, went soft after a couple of days but still tasted delicious:)
Also being baked is a large regular white loaf.
If I'm still awake after all that I'd love to make another Jo recipe, this one for Jam Tarts. I have plenty of jam; blackcurrant and raspberry and strawberry, would have liked some apricot but am too bushed to do yet another Co-Op run.... So red tarts it is then!
Poetic Moment.......
I'm lost when baking.
Lost in the bowl of happiness
Don't come and find me
Because I like it there
..........Pizza for tonight so have some bread dough proving on the windowsill, wondering what the pigeons think as they hop around picking and pecking seeds and nuts. Window is closed so not a chance of them, any of them, entering the bungalow.
Seeing as National Baking Week is coming to its end I thought I'd go all out today by making some lovely tea time goodies.
Gingerbread, as I've said, is baking. Will if time and thighs allow, attempt to make a batch of Custard Cream Biscuits. Found the recipe in Jo Wheatley's new book. Seems simple enough just need to hunt down some unwarped baking tins.
Talking of cookies, I made oatie ones recently which went down well with everyone, went soft after a couple of days but still tasted delicious:)
Also being baked is a large regular white loaf.
If I'm still awake after all that I'd love to make another Jo recipe, this one for Jam Tarts. I have plenty of jam; blackcurrant and raspberry and strawberry, would have liked some apricot but am too bushed to do yet another Co-Op run.... So red tarts it is then!
Poetic Moment.......
I'm lost when baking.
Lost in the bowl of happiness
Don't come and find me
Because I like it there
Thursday, 18 October 2012
Kitchen Doings
....The Malt Loaf I made recently had me thumping the walls on account of it not turning out EXACTLY as I'd hoped. Nothing wrong with the mouth experience, it tasted divine but I'd idiotically let it bake a tad too long resulting in a crispy collar, which, as all bakers know is a very bad thing. But being undeterred I managed, with the aid of scissors, to snip away the hideous hardness. No-one wsas any the wiser.
But, as with everything homemade, it's the taste that matters and this brick of a loaf was delicious. Delicious in its stickiness and moreishness. And abiding by Malt Loaf Rules I left it uncut for twenty four hours ( I think!) At any rate all who had a slice agreed it was a corker.
And so to last night's curry.
Chicken Breast and Chick Pea in a coconutty Tikka Masala sauce. I like coconut cream so plumped for it instead of my usual single cream.
Basmati rice flavoured and coloured by dashes of turmeric. A big bowl of cucumber raita to which a Cox's apple, two grated carrots and three teaspoonfuls of Sainsbury's mint sauce was added. It was delightful although an awful lot was left standing at the end of the meal, still I liked it.
A dish of shop bought mango chutney added sweetness and four coriander and garlic naan breads and two towering piles of home fried puppodoms gave the table a nice Indian feel.The plastic daffodils were a bit English though.
Drink came rarely. My guests, Mr and Mrs Hairy, had soft drinks, where I was cajoled, nay bullied into a wine spritzer. Mr Horsehound kept clean by sipping cloudy lemonade.
We had a fine evening which was made even more fine by dishes of homemade Vanilla Ice Cream with Oat Biscuits being served for pudding.
The making of the ice cream took 8 hours. Make rich egg custard. Cool. Add mucho double cream. Vanilla extract. Freeze. Mash. Freeze. Mash. Freeze. Remove from old freezer. Stand for a few minutes then spoon out to aaaahhhhs. It was worth every penny and all the effort.
To relax after the meal we watched the recorded Great British Bake Off. I wasn't surprised by the judges choice of supreme baker... John Whaite 23, law graduate.... how the boy sweated and with his eyes rimming red and watery I thought he was close to collapse as he presented his final bake a Heaven and Hell Chiffon cake.
The 'losers' were magnanimous in defeat which surprised me a tad, had visions of tetchy Brendan storming orf set. Never thought that about Max though, always knew he'd be a gennelman. And so another year, another star baker and another big gas bill for the BBC.
Talking of gas bills..I'll have the oven on later baking a mince and onion pie. So will, being aware of rising fuel costs fill my grungy oven to full capacity. Pie in middle. Potato Boulanger on top and on the bottom a nice rice.
But, as with everything homemade, it's the taste that matters and this brick of a loaf was delicious. Delicious in its stickiness and moreishness. And abiding by Malt Loaf Rules I left it uncut for twenty four hours ( I think!) At any rate all who had a slice agreed it was a corker.
And so to last night's curry.
Chicken Breast and Chick Pea in a coconutty Tikka Masala sauce. I like coconut cream so plumped for it instead of my usual single cream.
Basmati rice flavoured and coloured by dashes of turmeric. A big bowl of cucumber raita to which a Cox's apple, two grated carrots and three teaspoonfuls of Sainsbury's mint sauce was added. It was delightful although an awful lot was left standing at the end of the meal, still I liked it.
A dish of shop bought mango chutney added sweetness and four coriander and garlic naan breads and two towering piles of home fried puppodoms gave the table a nice Indian feel.The plastic daffodils were a bit English though.
Drink came rarely. My guests, Mr and Mrs Hairy, had soft drinks, where I was cajoled, nay bullied into a wine spritzer. Mr Horsehound kept clean by sipping cloudy lemonade.
We had a fine evening which was made even more fine by dishes of homemade Vanilla Ice Cream with Oat Biscuits being served for pudding.
The making of the ice cream took 8 hours. Make rich egg custard. Cool. Add mucho double cream. Vanilla extract. Freeze. Mash. Freeze. Mash. Freeze. Remove from old freezer. Stand for a few minutes then spoon out to aaaahhhhs. It was worth every penny and all the effort.
To relax after the meal we watched the recorded Great British Bake Off. I wasn't surprised by the judges choice of supreme baker... John Whaite 23, law graduate.... how the boy sweated and with his eyes rimming red and watery I thought he was close to collapse as he presented his final bake a Heaven and Hell Chiffon cake.
The 'losers' were magnanimous in defeat which surprised me a tad, had visions of tetchy Brendan storming orf set. Never thought that about Max though, always knew he'd be a gennelman. And so another year, another star baker and another big gas bill for the BBC.
Talking of gas bills..I'll have the oven on later baking a mince and onion pie. So will, being aware of rising fuel costs fill my grungy oven to full capacity. Pie in middle. Potato Boulanger on top and on the bottom a nice rice.
Tuesday, 16 October 2012
........England take on the Poles tonight..in Poland....in their quest to qualify for the next World Cup. And don't anyone dare mention 1973 when they er...didn't.
Also tonight the Final of the Great British Cake Off. Where I'll be a mightily unhappy Glo if balding bore Brendan wins. I like Max (and his glasses) thinks HE should win and NOT the pernicketty unsmiling hang 'em all Brennez. I bet he's an AWFUL neighbour.
Mum and I went to Sainsburys where, as I hauled he out of the motor realized to my sickening horror that I'd left behind, on the draining board, me shopping list. Oh my giddy aunt how my belly rocked and rolled, but I did it. I trolleyed mum around gently gliding up and down aisles not forgetting one single item.
I know this FOR A FACT because I checked the list on my return:)
Conclusion? I either have an amazing memory or I buy the same old stuff every blooming week!
(With the addition, this week, of creamed coconut and bottom ointment.
Anyway we paid Paul on the til and left a stream of ordinary shoppers in our wake wondering how two seemingly regular type girls could heave so much shopping about and still have time to hug each other. Yes we cuddled, did mum and I, right by the sugar free squashes.
Home to eggs and sleep.
Now I must fly...>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Also tonight the Final of the Great British Cake Off. Where I'll be a mightily unhappy Glo if balding bore Brendan wins. I like Max (and his glasses) thinks HE should win and NOT the pernicketty unsmiling hang 'em all Brennez. I bet he's an AWFUL neighbour.
Mum and I went to Sainsburys where, as I hauled he out of the motor realized to my sickening horror that I'd left behind, on the draining board, me shopping list. Oh my giddy aunt how my belly rocked and rolled, but I did it. I trolleyed mum around gently gliding up and down aisles not forgetting one single item.
I know this FOR A FACT because I checked the list on my return:)
Conclusion? I either have an amazing memory or I buy the same old stuff every blooming week!
(With the addition, this week, of creamed coconut and bottom ointment.
Anyway we paid Paul on the til and left a stream of ordinary shoppers in our wake wondering how two seemingly regular type girls could heave so much shopping about and still have time to hug each other. Yes we cuddled, did mum and I, right by the sugar free squashes.
Home to eggs and sleep.
Now I must fly...>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Sunday, 14 October 2012
Sunday Lovely Sunday
.............Late start to the 'rest day' but already have a lovely piece of silverside braising and a 2lb Malt Loaf baking.
The loaf is something I've been aching to make for a very long time and I can't wait to see and taste it. According to Mary Berry and other more ordinary baking people one should wait two days before slicing, if that happens in the HoHo household I'll be very surprised. There are, as one can imagine, shed loads of recipes for the sticky tea time treat but the one I've plumped for is from the BBC Good Food website. I have of course trawled through many other recipe sites and even my own vast recipe collection but the BBC one tickles me fancy the most.
So earlier today, before I'd even downed a cuppa I had sultanas soaking in hot black tea and Malt Extract. How excellent it looked in the Mason Cash bowl. So dark, brooding and rich looking. if it had been a man I'd have jumped it:)
Anyway I left it to soak while I prepared, what will be, a very late lunch.
Seared the beef then put it in my biggest casserole on top of quartered onion and sliced carrot, seasoned... then stocked it with a pint of hot oxo. Lid on and in.
As mum was talkative this morning I was late in getting the papers but after filling her up with drugs, weetabix and unsweetened tea I strolled unwashed to Mr Chakarakabangdums wherein I failed in my attempt to buy JUST the papers picking up on my way to the till (manned by a sour faced female) a bottle of sweet chilli sauce and jar of diabetic raspberry jelly.(reduced in price)
How the sun bleached and blazed on my slow trek home, so stunning was the brightness I slowed to snail pace.......I relished the breeze and gentle nod to the old man and his white dog who stood by the pillar box I, and them, it seemed, were in no hurry to get back. In fact I felt so overcome with love of freedom that if I'd have had the nerve I'd have whistled a happy tune and gone for a walk but I couldn't of course, which is depressing but at the same time character building because adventures postponed make future adventures sweeter. I went home.
Home to Monty sunning himself on the settee and mum slumped in bed like a plastic doll with its neck broken. I dropped the papers on her lap promising I'd wash her hair at noon and sit with her while it dried. We do deals like that, mum and me good self, because we have to, otherwise she would get depressed and I would sink with guilt.
The aromas coming from the kitchen are heaven scent.......
Now I must fly:)>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
The loaf is something I've been aching to make for a very long time and I can't wait to see and taste it. According to Mary Berry and other more ordinary baking people one should wait two days before slicing, if that happens in the HoHo household I'll be very surprised. There are, as one can imagine, shed loads of recipes for the sticky tea time treat but the one I've plumped for is from the BBC Good Food website. I have of course trawled through many other recipe sites and even my own vast recipe collection but the BBC one tickles me fancy the most.
So earlier today, before I'd even downed a cuppa I had sultanas soaking in hot black tea and Malt Extract. How excellent it looked in the Mason Cash bowl. So dark, brooding and rich looking. if it had been a man I'd have jumped it:)
Anyway I left it to soak while I prepared, what will be, a very late lunch.
Seared the beef then put it in my biggest casserole on top of quartered onion and sliced carrot, seasoned... then stocked it with a pint of hot oxo. Lid on and in.
As mum was talkative this morning I was late in getting the papers but after filling her up with drugs, weetabix and unsweetened tea I strolled unwashed to Mr Chakarakabangdums wherein I failed in my attempt to buy JUST the papers picking up on my way to the till (manned by a sour faced female) a bottle of sweet chilli sauce and jar of diabetic raspberry jelly.(reduced in price)
How the sun bleached and blazed on my slow trek home, so stunning was the brightness I slowed to snail pace.......I relished the breeze and gentle nod to the old man and his white dog who stood by the pillar box I, and them, it seemed, were in no hurry to get back. In fact I felt so overcome with love of freedom that if I'd have had the nerve I'd have whistled a happy tune and gone for a walk but I couldn't of course, which is depressing but at the same time character building because adventures postponed make future adventures sweeter. I went home.
Home to Monty sunning himself on the settee and mum slumped in bed like a plastic doll with its neck broken. I dropped the papers on her lap promising I'd wash her hair at noon and sit with her while it dried. We do deals like that, mum and me good self, because we have to, otherwise she would get depressed and I would sink with guilt.
The aromas coming from the kitchen are heaven scent.......
Now I must fly:)>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Saturday, 13 October 2012
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It hasn't been good today.
The aforementioned mother can barely stay upright and has lost her appetite again. But it'll come back she reassured me before again falling asleep. She's a warrior of sorts who doesn't talk to God anymore because, she said, he doesn't do anything. Her hand tightened around mine as she said that and I too wondered about the Almighty but serves no purpose to rile Him he already has all the cards.
Tonight before we watch The X Factor we'll be eating Chicken Breasts in Honey and Apple sauce, served with couscous, I'll have some soup in a saucepan though just in case mum prefers it. Pudding will be zingy Lemon Puddle Pudding with Ice Cream.
Now I must fly>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Friday, 12 October 2012
Thursday, 11 October 2012
Well Done Mother
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| Me |
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| Me |
So yes mother and my good self had a major girl's outing this morning mum even accepting the offer of a nice cup of tea and hot sausage roll in Greggs. Loaded with shopping bags we downed our tea whilst chatting about our buys.....
Mum plumping for chocolate mints, crime novels and flesh coloured tights. I went a bit potty buying not only the aforementioned suitcase, oops I mean bag, (it is rather large) but also another bag in Primark :( Then into Boots for make-up then into Poundland for a dozen black curlers. Yes curlers. As I'm on the verge of complete collapse (too many late nights and not enough fibre) I decided that my funny growing out kinda hairstyle needed a little something else, a small lift, a little oompa lumpa. So I invested in a bag of black spongy rollers.
I'll do the deed tonight, wash hair, towel dry, then mousse up and wind strands of silver hair around blackest sponge......... then pick up Mr H from the station.......
Monday, 8 October 2012
Monday...Daft.....updated
.........Walking in the rain with mother, jar of Malt Extract and giant fry pan (big enough to hold cat) I love it. So much fun in the charity shops with mum asking for non-existent gloves and me buying the ugliest faux ostrich handbag. Still, we had a laugh:)
Then local mini Sainsburys for washing powder and custard tarts. My protestations regarding the tarts fell on old deaf ears, she much preferring shop bought fancies to my fruity tea bread and choco/vanilla marbled ring. Silly old girl.
The Malt Extract will be used in the baking of little loaves containing sultanas and other yummies, can't wait to play with it. Apparently it's used as a food supplement too for people who, like mother, are off their food and on their last legs.
Being 'cooked' today are two Sainsburys beef puddings which'll be steamed for an eternity and served with tatties and sprouts. Mr H, bless him, won't be included in the sharing of this mum ordered feast on account of him working the dark late shift.
And so bearing that in mind I'll dose myself up on coffee in order to stay perky for the deep long drive to the station (2 miles) as the clock strikes midnight.
I have a million things to do this afternoon ( phone calls regarding blood letting, ironing, fixing clothes horse, general household mismanagement and watching Tories on the telly......so.... I'd better crack on
Recipe book of tea time delicacies. All I need now is a small fireside table and doilies:)
Also bought this morning a pair of deliciously soft salmon pink leather gloves.
Then local mini Sainsburys for washing powder and custard tarts. My protestations regarding the tarts fell on old deaf ears, she much preferring shop bought fancies to my fruity tea bread and choco/vanilla marbled ring. Silly old girl.
The Malt Extract will be used in the baking of little loaves containing sultanas and other yummies, can't wait to play with it. Apparently it's used as a food supplement too for people who, like mother, are off their food and on their last legs.
Being 'cooked' today are two Sainsburys beef puddings which'll be steamed for an eternity and served with tatties and sprouts. Mr H, bless him, won't be included in the sharing of this mum ordered feast on account of him working the dark late shift.
And so bearing that in mind I'll dose myself up on coffee in order to stay perky for the deep long drive to the station (2 miles) as the clock strikes midnight.
I have a million things to do this afternoon ( phone calls regarding blood letting, ironing, fixing clothes horse, general household mismanagement and watching Tories on the telly......so.... I'd better crack on
Recipe book of tea time delicacies. All I need now is a small fireside table and doilies:)
Also bought this morning a pair of deliciously soft salmon pink leather gloves.
Saturday, 6 October 2012
...........Large milk bread proving on windowsill.
Wonder what the resident pigeons think. It's so sweet seeing their smooth heads bop up and down as I take out my frustrations on a pound and half of bread dough.
Talking of frustration...yesterday had me pulling up a chair so I could sit by mum's side, thought I needed to be closer to her. Sitting half way across the room kind of leaves too much aching space between myself and the woman I love. And all that love welled up yesterday because not only does she look more unwell but she's talking oddly too. I can't go into what she said suffice to say her words had me running to the kettle and pigeons for comfort.
Bed time was disastrous.
.......Painful love or not I rose this morning and proceeded to bake but not before more heartbreak from mum. She's so fed up with not being able to walk unaided, wash herself, get dressed, of hitting her head on chairs and walls and generally feeling like the life she once had is unravelling like a ball of wool falling down a hillside on a dark and windy night. My words not hers. She just says 'bastard'.
........And for tea tonight I'm cooking Lamb Chops with Honey and Apple sauce served with carrots and pasta spirals. Also being made....a Chocolate and Vanilla Marble Cake with chocolate dribble to faint over whilst watching The X Factor.
....Lunch will probably be beans.
:)
Wonder what the resident pigeons think. It's so sweet seeing their smooth heads bop up and down as I take out my frustrations on a pound and half of bread dough.
Talking of frustration...yesterday had me pulling up a chair so I could sit by mum's side, thought I needed to be closer to her. Sitting half way across the room kind of leaves too much aching space between myself and the woman I love. And all that love welled up yesterday because not only does she look more unwell but she's talking oddly too. I can't go into what she said suffice to say her words had me running to the kettle and pigeons for comfort.
Bed time was disastrous.
.......Painful love or not I rose this morning and proceeded to bake but not before more heartbreak from mum. She's so fed up with not being able to walk unaided, wash herself, get dressed, of hitting her head on chairs and walls and generally feeling like the life she once had is unravelling like a ball of wool falling down a hillside on a dark and windy night. My words not hers. She just says 'bastard'.
........And for tea tonight I'm cooking Lamb Chops with Honey and Apple sauce served with carrots and pasta spirals. Also being made....a Chocolate and Vanilla Marble Cake with chocolate dribble to faint over whilst watching The X Factor.
....Lunch will probably be beans.
:)
Thursday, 4 October 2012
..............Took mum shopping today.
..........And as we trundled along passing shops, madly parked cars and people I scooped myself up and away from the street and its hardness.
And, for a few minutes, I was not in Spa Road but in another place.
In this other place the weather wasn't volatile, instead it sleepily shrouded me in its late summer warmth.
Where I stood wasn't bricked or kerbed or clattering with transport, where I stood the ground undulated. Its firm warm earth studded with heads of wild nameless flowers, laced and patchworked with grasses of cat eye and apple green. I stood unsteady, lovingly, looking around wondering if one false step would see me tumbling down to the circle of blue which called itself a lake. As I teetered I never made a sound not even the noise of breathing would be heard. A sudden victory of birds taking off shuddered me from this reverie and licking up the scent of this meadow I threw myself down........
..........And as we trundled along passing shops, madly parked cars and people I scooped myself up and away from the street and its hardness.
And, for a few minutes, I was not in Spa Road but in another place.
In this other place the weather wasn't volatile, instead it sleepily shrouded me in its late summer warmth.
Where I stood wasn't bricked or kerbed or clattering with transport, where I stood the ground undulated. Its firm warm earth studded with heads of wild nameless flowers, laced and patchworked with grasses of cat eye and apple green. I stood unsteady, lovingly, looking around wondering if one false step would see me tumbling down to the circle of blue which called itself a lake. As I teetered I never made a sound not even the noise of breathing would be heard. A sudden victory of birds taking off shuddered me from this reverie and licking up the scent of this meadow I threw myself down........
Wednesday, 3 October 2012
A few thoughts
........Mum's been a diamond today. Behaving impeccably when nursie suggested yet another drug change. Must be all the fine food and books she's been devouring lately. Crime novels and ham rolls seemingly ideal partners.
.........The nice Sainsbury's delivery man (bespectacled over 60 smelling of soap) delivered 99% of my online order, the only upset being the non availability of dried Marjoram. All the other essentials though were brought to the door on time...nay...a smidgen ahead of the arranged time. Still, at least I was dressed. And very nicely too I may add. I resisted the warm urge to banter with the bearded giant suffice to say his short visit was without laughter.
............The bells from Mother warning of imminent arrival of aforementioned nurse Margie, big lady with breasts like ill-set blancmanges, her rapid attention to mum's blood pressure, blood sugar level and bed sores was admirable. She was gorn within ten minutes. And that's what mum and me good aching self prefer. She's not a talker is Marge.
......Major clean up of dusty furniture in drawing room aka front room, I do not and never have said 'lounge' as 'lounge' is something in airports. And the only flying that goes on in the bungalow is me dashing from one room to the other to appease and please mother. Her requests, bless her, are endless. Especially for pink drinks and ladies intimate apparel. Recently I was under her bed looking for a book when suddenly stuck right in my face was a pair of tights she'd lost a month or so ago.
..........Talking of beds. I'll be doing hers later.
.......Food. I have another loaf proving. Only this time I've enriched the dough with a little milk. Should be interesting, so I can't wait till later this afternoon when I whip it from the oven inspecting every inch.
...Also going in the oven is a beef casserole. Picked up a Swede yesterday so half of that will be used. The other half in some Cornish type Pasties later in the week, probably Friday.
If I have time I'll make a lemon pudding.
........Harking back......Yesterday I watched Ed Miliband's impressive speech. The boy is out of the shadows methinks. A breathtaking without notes Blairish in style onslaught about all what's wrong in Cameron's Britain and how beautiful life will be in a One Nation Britain with dear leader Milipede at the helm. I loved it.
..........My knees are better.
............Talking of better. Mr Hairy Suit took Mother and I in his modern car all the way to the hospital and back again with a quick lovely detour to Rochford market where the suave fit Hairy pounced on a decent miltary style looking jacket in the RSPCA charity shop. Suits him. Takes years orf him too. I on the other hand bought a large black hat and red cape. Oh my giddy aunt I love them. What else? Oh lots of plums. Back to Hairy....I think he enjoyed his foray into the unquestionably murky underbelly of couture.
......As mum split her solitary Weetabix this morning she said I looked lovely.
............Last weekend's X Factor drove me potty. I found the incessant sobbing of every wannabee tiring and boring. If it carries on like this The X Factor will live no more. It is formulaic to the point of embarrassment.
.......Now I must fly. I hear bells................
.........The nice Sainsbury's delivery man (bespectacled over 60 smelling of soap) delivered 99% of my online order, the only upset being the non availability of dried Marjoram. All the other essentials though were brought to the door on time...nay...a smidgen ahead of the arranged time. Still, at least I was dressed. And very nicely too I may add. I resisted the warm urge to banter with the bearded giant suffice to say his short visit was without laughter.
............The bells from Mother warning of imminent arrival of aforementioned nurse Margie, big lady with breasts like ill-set blancmanges, her rapid attention to mum's blood pressure, blood sugar level and bed sores was admirable. She was gorn within ten minutes. And that's what mum and me good aching self prefer. She's not a talker is Marge.
......Major clean up of dusty furniture in drawing room aka front room, I do not and never have said 'lounge' as 'lounge' is something in airports. And the only flying that goes on in the bungalow is me dashing from one room to the other to appease and please mother. Her requests, bless her, are endless. Especially for pink drinks and ladies intimate apparel. Recently I was under her bed looking for a book when suddenly stuck right in my face was a pair of tights she'd lost a month or so ago.
..........Talking of beds. I'll be doing hers later.
.......Food. I have another loaf proving. Only this time I've enriched the dough with a little milk. Should be interesting, so I can't wait till later this afternoon when I whip it from the oven inspecting every inch.
...Also going in the oven is a beef casserole. Picked up a Swede yesterday so half of that will be used. The other half in some Cornish type Pasties later in the week, probably Friday.
If I have time I'll make a lemon pudding.
........Harking back......Yesterday I watched Ed Miliband's impressive speech. The boy is out of the shadows methinks. A breathtaking without notes Blairish in style onslaught about all what's wrong in Cameron's Britain and how beautiful life will be in a One Nation Britain with dear leader Milipede at the helm. I loved it.
..........My knees are better.
............Talking of better. Mr Hairy Suit took Mother and I in his modern car all the way to the hospital and back again with a quick lovely detour to Rochford market where the suave fit Hairy pounced on a decent miltary style looking jacket in the RSPCA charity shop. Suits him. Takes years orf him too. I on the other hand bought a large black hat and red cape. Oh my giddy aunt I love them. What else? Oh lots of plums. Back to Hairy....I think he enjoyed his foray into the unquestionably murky underbelly of couture.
......As mum split her solitary Weetabix this morning she said I looked lovely.
............Last weekend's X Factor drove me potty. I found the incessant sobbing of every wannabee tiring and boring. If it carries on like this The X Factor will live no more. It is formulaic to the point of embarrassment.
.......Now I must fly. I hear bells................
Monday, 1 October 2012
Updated
The Labour Party Conference amidst a day of cooking and loving.
I'm in my element.
More later....
It is now later...
Made large white loaf, another Yorkshire Teabread (better than previous one) a rich dark bolognaise sauce for tomorrow's lasagne (bechamel coming later). So plenty of cooking done this morning. After a little sit down and light munchies I'll make tonight's Fisherman's Pie.
Smoked haddock and canned tuna in white sauce topped with layer of sliced tomatoes and covered in creamed potatoes. Usually serve peas with this gorgeous pie and tonight barring madcap ideas will again serve peas.
Pudding will be something light and fuss free, probably remainder of yesterday's crumble.
I'm leaning heavily though towards a chocolate puddle.
I love cooking, as you can clearly see, but sometimes my meticulousness for doing things right...in other words doing it myself... sometime gives me the pip. Why I can't open a packet or raid the freezer occasionally like wiser housewives beats me.
Ok self deprecating rant over.
So before fish pie and choc pud... leg stretch, ham roll and horror flick.
I'm in my element.
More later....
It is now later...
Made large white loaf, another Yorkshire Teabread (better than previous one) a rich dark bolognaise sauce for tomorrow's lasagne (bechamel coming later). So plenty of cooking done this morning. After a little sit down and light munchies I'll make tonight's Fisherman's Pie.
Smoked haddock and canned tuna in white sauce topped with layer of sliced tomatoes and covered in creamed potatoes. Usually serve peas with this gorgeous pie and tonight barring madcap ideas will again serve peas.
Pudding will be something light and fuss free, probably remainder of yesterday's crumble.
I'm leaning heavily though towards a chocolate puddle.
I love cooking, as you can clearly see, but sometimes my meticulousness for doing things right...in other words doing it myself... sometime gives me the pip. Why I can't open a packet or raid the freezer occasionally like wiser housewives beats me.
Ok self deprecating rant over.
So before fish pie and choc pud... leg stretch, ham roll and horror flick.
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