Heart-less

The Sainsburys butcher said:

"We don't do hearts any more" *


:(


So for tonight's tea I've made heaps of Felafel.
:)

I love vegetarian food but I'm a carnivore at heart...

*So fair lamb, where doest thou hearts go?

Dog cans?
Cat pouches?
99p Moussaka?

I just don't know but

Wherever thous goest, dear hearts, I go too.
Except maybe along the moussaka route.

:)

Feeling happily creative tonight so bish-bashed together some sort of chicken dish.

In the pot went...

Skinned thighs, plump and many
chopped onion, blah blah boo hoo
can of tomatoes, regular not posh cherry
few chopped olives, black and rich from Sainsbury's deli. 45p
quite a lot of garlic, half a head in fact
parsley rosemary basil tarragon marjoram thyme, some dried others fresh. Concoction known as Herbs de Provence
black pepper, generous to the point of cruelty:)
salt, miserly
fingers of carrots, for colour texture and vitamin intake
Port, a five second glug

To go with it? Probably mashed tatties to soak up the boozy liquor.

If I need a sugar fix I'll open a can of mis-shaped mandarins (Sainsbury's Basic) (29p)

Planted a few flowers today.
Pansies
English Pompoms
Sweet Peas

Made a loaf. Over did it a little on account of being distracted, but divine aroma and inner texture. Soft as an angel's buttocks and as white as your false teeth.
:)

Simple Things Please.....

Lovely

1. 'New' secondhand handbag. Shiny chain handled handbag in gold. A paupers Chanel.

2. Sweet and sour chicken, fried egg rice and pancake rolls. Tonight with 'Cronos'.

3. Three blue and white enamel pie plates. I hugged them as I walked out of the charity shop. £1:20. Will christen the smallest one by baking a cherry pie.

4. Baking books piled up alongside cake stands and bun tins. No more feeling the need for precision ornamentation.

5. All blue jewellry. Heavy goth style necklace, enamel bangle, blue diamond ear rings. All these in partnership with my new best eye shadow, sky blue.

6. Happy with hair. Very short and silver. Cool. Funky. Mental.

7. 'New' smoky pink nightie. Could be worn as a dress but would need a hot day.

8. Tiny Tart Tins. For tiny tarts. Baby jam, baby lemon curd and baby choco.

9. Banana Fluff. Dessert for next week. Domed and yellow with buried banana.

10. Tea and biscuits. Forever my panacea. New fine bone china Istria mug for new teabags. A lovely blue and white mug, its design coming for the archives of the Victoria and Albert Museum. The P.G. Tips Tea Bags coming from Sainsburys.


And looking forward to weekend...

If this rain doesn't flood off I'll soon be taking a skid ride around Sainsbury's car park!

But I love food shopping so I'll rubberize my tiny feet in Sensible Brown Shoes and take a chance.

And so, as Brian McKnight sang, I'll be..........Back at One:)

Let There Be Light. In Sainsbury's.

Simple things really are the best.

I haven't been feeling tip top recently so when I woke at 5 a.m. I decided a trip to Sainsbury's was what I needed.

Before I cruised down to Sainzo though, I popped in the Factory shop and bought six various flavoured fat balls. One is insect flavoured. But that's quite irrelevant.

Anyway as I walked around the great old shoppe I felt invigorated not because I was buying food but because I was out and about in a place I've missed. A simple, slightly out-of-date place, but a joint so welcoming with it's acidic orange carrier bags and cramped corners filled with fabulous low priced tellys, alarmed booze and breaded ham. Yes, I felt at home and invisible and that's what I needed.

Is that sad?
Yes, possibly but it made me think that normal every day activities are great. They're little islands of comfort when your mind is being ravaged by dark and fearsome monsters. For an hour or so I was lost in bogoffs, mad trolley men and reduced stickers.
So as I gracefully walked up and down the aisles, I didn't moan not even when my way was blocked by ladies with meringue hair rabbiting on about Greek holidays...
No, I loved them all.

And as I put the shopping in the boot I didn't want to leave, sad though that seems and maybe even a trifle weird but I wanted to be back in there, with people, with colour and movement. So I went back in there, picked up a basket and bought a few tins.

Being in an awful darkness makes baked beans, brilliant!

Do Not Eat

I've been perusing me cupboards and here is a list of what I do not have and why.

Tinned Rice Pudding:
It is anathema to me on account of it being too white and not containing bits of lemon peel.
Tinned Soup:
Because it is not soup as I know it. My soup needs a fork because sometimes it has a bits of cabbage in it. The thought of being tied down and having a spoonful of Heinz Tomato Soup dripped onto my lips keeps me awake at night.
Cook-In Sauces:
I bought one in 1985 and fainted when I opened the tin. I swore never again.
Canned Meat:
Because it reminds me of the War. Corned Beef is ok if one closes one's eyes and thinks of England. But canned Ham is unforgivable and full of water.
Instant Custard:
The country's supply of it should be chucked into a landfill site or poured over giggling women in baths who are doing it for charity and to get their picture in the paper. Do not use this product.
Tubed Garlic:
I must chop and mash my garlic otherwise I can't sing in Italian. I eat bucketloads of real garlic. I do not have any friends.
Cake Mixes:
If I see someone in Sainsbury's even LOOKING at these appalling things I tell the manager to evict them from the store. To make a cake is the best thing on earth. I don't trust people who buy Swiss Rolls.

And perhaps the foodstuff that makes me go most mental is

Cheap Sausages:
Pale insipid pinky winkies without any balls. When I see a bad sausage in Sainsbury's I spin round shouting obscenities, I cry out for the in-store butcher to be relocated and I weep for the wretched animal that had to be put to sleep just so people with no class or money can have a fry-up.
A real Woman's sausage is so powerful you have to kill it to eat it. A real sausage lives on your plate, it breathes and looks at you with contempt, it dares you to eat it.
I kill dozens of the blighters every month. And they love me for it. I float them in cider, I prop them up and against some mash, I slice them into a risotto and I squeeze them into a finger roll. And at all times the sausage in question is the best I can afford.
So on your knees you Cumberland Ring you, try and get the better of me you string of Toulouse, get me in a lather if you dare, you pound of big fat Venison bangers.
And melt me with your long lusciousness you violent Frankfurter.

I will at some time post a piece about what goes on in my kitchen.
And it's not all culinary.
Thank You.