Steak and Kidney Pud

Chocolate castles with chocolate and cinnamon sauce

The Best Syrup Pudding

Meatballs with tomato sauce and spaghetti

Soup

Eclairs with whipped cream and dark chocolate icing

Minced Beef Poy

A bursting Steak Pud.

Being around food makes me feel all warm and satisfied so today I'm making:

Leek soup
Irish Soda Rolls

Chicken tikka masala with potatoes and tomatoes.
garlic and coriander naan
rice

If I have the time I'll rustle up tomorrow's pudding which will probably be apple and blackberry crumble. I have some Greek yoghurt which would make a good accompaniment but knowing my lack of imagination a jug of custard will be the crumbles mate.
Greek yoghurt is a fav of mine and is an ingredient of my Apple Flan which will be knocked together in the week.
So first on the list is leek soup, due to having mother in the bungalow a lot of soup is being consumed, usually tinned which, for the price, isn't worth it. Only one worth nuking is Heinz Carrot and Coriander.
Canned soup doesn't do it any more.
Especially when you've tasted home made.

Talking of home made comfort... last night's Cauliflower cheese was so gorgeous Mr H. had 'thirds'. Made a smashingly simple cheese sauce using mature English Cheddar, English mustard and good grating of nutmeg. Absolutely creamy.
Poured it over steamed colli then topped it with blitzed oaty bread.
Served with fried back bacon and baked tomatoes.
Blissful.
No pud though on account of the lateness of the hour.
Blasted trains.

Now I must fly.......................:)

The beginning of the end or a new begoinnig. Drink but no toast.

Bumpy night.
Cat lumped on my left leg, which was turned towards the main wardrobe.
Numb.
Cat booted.
Then sleep for a bit.
Mr H. up in the dark fiddling to find his long johns.
Methinking " oh please do it quick"
Not likely.

Then winks but not forty.
Awake in an empty bed only to hear Mother coughing.
Blow this.
Up.
A positive stuffy atmos. in the drawing room, so opened windows. Cat interested. If you wanna go walkabout then go, but don't come crying to me when your arse gets damp.
He stay in.

A little later after a dangerously hot shower...
Mother no eat Weetabix. Therefore me get the pip. Grr. So I moaned out with another blasted Mother list and went to the Co-Op, which I hate.

And now, as my tummy screams for fat and stuff, Mother is drinking Ginger Wine in her lurid pink dressing gown.
Me no eat yet.

In the Co-Op I bought, along with alcohol papers and Dolly Mixtures, a long Leek.
It pleased me so much. The very thought of using it tomorrow for Braised Country Bacon makes my simple life worthwhile.