Sunny Day

Hmmm, things are looking up. The last two days have been sunny and springy - a combination I rather like. D and I are getting on better than ever - as friends and I am looking in to the fast-track racy world of.......drum roll please......Mortgages!!!

I still love m'boy and I am sure he still loves me, just all a bit random. We'll get there.

No recipe this time, but BBC Good Food have a rather delicious looking cake on the front. As for me, I have yet to face the weekend and am currently eating junk. I guess reality will hit home soon - ouch!

Broken Heart Curry

The last few weeks between me and the OH half not been easy. We have had trials and triblulations, sharp words, burnt food and heart to hearts.

Today, we fell apart.

The fab birthday party I had resulted in a bill and after a rather fantastic cookery day (bought by the OH for the big3-0) at Morston Hall, a Michelin starred restaurant here in sunny Norfolk, the bill arrived. After misunderstandings, fraught phonecalls and just horrid feelings at what appeared to be overcharging, with my olds, the OH looked rather cheesed off. He seemed distant, and my sleep was interrupted with nightmares and waking.

The Bran flakes this morning were only half eaten as we broke up over breakfast. Both really upset and a lot of self blame. I cried (read sobbed) and had a bad day. I phoned lots of people and generally felt crap.

My friend A arrived to the rescue and took me to the river to feed the killer swans (not throw self in) and after what appeared to be a planned attack and some rather intimidating stares from the swans, I went home. OH had arrived home early and so we had silence and then 'TALKS'. Both of us are really sad and feeling all glum. There is excited talk about things to do as friends, how I can house hunt but tears at not working out - we both wanted to be the one.

After all the high emotion had run its course, the numbness set in and we set too, trying to cook. We actually really enjoyed it, the first time in ages and made this little thing below - it's gentle and soothing rather than hot and fiery. Just good. It's our special curry now.

Kat and Dean's Home-Made Sri- Lankan Curry
or
Broken Heart Curry

Make the Sri Lankan spice from The World Cook Book.

Fry two chopped onions and add two breasts of cubed chicken. Add coriander towards end.

Open two tins of tomatoes and pour into another pan. Add some water and a small tin of coconut cream. Pop in a teaspoon of tomatoe puree. Stir to mix. Add the chicken mixture, pop a lid on and put in oven a about 160 degrees for approx 45 mins (ours is a fan oven so adjust accordingly) Serve with plain rice and know that through all the hurt, you cooked this with someone you love very much, no matter how bad things are.

Now I'm off for some solace and sleep. I'll post on Morston later.

Who Shot JR?

I have no idea I was quite drunk - Dallas style.

It was my big birthday party at the weekend and I dressed up as 1980'S Dallas power dresser - looking more like a rather naff R&B star. I think the most shocking thing was that people though my outrageous wig (well I thought so0 was actually my real hair...AND thought I really suited it. I give up. There was copious amounts of food, some murdering action, and a lot of booze. Food was great (Loads of salad things, Chicken sweet and sour, Chilli and Veg Stroganoff) courtesy of the hotel and then I stayed up till 3am with two great friends after drinking champagne. I could get used to this life.


Everybody was very glam at the party and all the men looked rather swish. D looked particularly yum. My best mate looked like Pam Ewing (Dad thinks she makes a great red head) but I suspect there was definately a slant towards the Beverley Hills Hillbillies!
Now there are a squillion lovely cards and presents, a half completed pile of thank you notes and a boyfriend to schmooze all at my place. Great! Pictures to be posted soon.....

I'm 30

Oh god. I'm 30 and still a random 16 year old with lord know what plans but definately, uncertain ones.

I feel old. When I was a kid I used to cry on my birthday - usually because somebody had lobbed a large pass-the-parcel at me which happened to be a book, and dented my teeth.

I cried yesterday too - not because of a parcel this time. Just cried, due to me and Dean. Must be getting soft and rheumy in my new old age.

If it starts with a 3 does that mean it's a 3rd age?

To celebrate, I am looking at cookery courses. Yum.

Apples of Lurve - Valentines Day Part 2

Has it really been a year? Is that where all the love is? In that last year?

I get so excited about the big red day. Sod the trashy, cheesey and crass cards, I like effort. The OH and I try not to get caught up in it all - he doesn't like the mass commercialism and I pretend not to....

This year I have a cunning plan. It's still all horrid and drizzly here with puddles rippling as people splish splosh through and we have no fire (the flue part is in the shed!), so we are making gestures in other ways to keep the fires in our hearts stoked(yeah right)

The OH is cooking me dinner! We are having his speciality dish of Mustard Chicken (he is very talented) with lyonnaise potatoes and baby sweetcorn. Admittedly, we have a heap of food we have to eat up in the fridge as we had a lot of family round at ours last week (gorgeous baby William who I actually wanted - he was so pugulistic in looks!!) I, on the other hand, will be presenting coffee and walnut muffins dressed temptingly in a red flowerpot, with red icing hearts, lots of lovely hearts and fluffy things on sticks as well as a big red heart balloon. He may think it's cheesey but I hope he likes it. They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach and Coffee and Walnut (well nut in this case) is definately a honey-boy favourite!

Recipe today is for Apple and Calvados Brandy Pate (hence the apples in the title of this post):

Core and peel one apple into quarters. Take each quarter and chop into neat segments. Pan fry with butter and a glug of Calvados until golden, and remove from heat.
Take 500g of chicken livers trimmed and pan fry in more butter with one clove of garlic and two finely chopped shallots. Add more Calvados (careful, no need to flambe!)and return three quarters of the apple to the pan. When the chicken livers are browned with a tinge of pink, blend all the ingredients until fine. Fold in remainder of the apple.

This actually a really quick recipe and luckily, can be served warm so if you need a nice little dish for your loved one tonight, maybe this is worth a shot.

I tend not to stick to strick weights and volume in this recipe as I find it really depends of the texture of pate that you prefer. This gives you a slightly drier and coarser (but not chunky) pate. This was adapted from Glyn Christians Sainsbury's cookbook of Pies, Pates and Terrines. A jolly handy little book. Enjoy.

Making me melt......

I did say, didn't I, that this blog was suposed to be about food and all the excitement and adventure that goes with it?

The OH and I have always cooked this Nigella recipe when we have felt meltingly tender with each other - a symbol of us together - strong, dark and yummy. The fact that my love wants to make me delicious yummy things makes me melt. I love making him this cake too (Guiness is a favourite treat drink in Summer) and this cake has always proved successful for any celebration - my best friends 30th not withstanding.

I love this cake and I love my OH - it's a bit unclear as to where the future lies for us both at the moment - we are in summit and UN negotiations about it all. It's my 30th birthday soon and I can't help but feel that we are both holding our breath until it's all over to make that decision.

I should make this cake, don't you think? Try and melt his heart once more? Funny how food entwines with the rest of our emotions. This recipe is from Nigella Lawsons book Feast. It is a celebration cake, (maybe of your love) and can provide solace for the brokenhearted. I am melting now but not in a joyful way.

Chocolate and Guiness Cake

250ml Guinness
250g butter (1 cup)
75g cocoa (a rounded 1/2 cup)
400g caster sugar (2 cups)
140ml sour cream (I used plain yoghurt)
2 eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
275g plain flour (2 1/4 cups)
2 1/2 teaspoons bicarb soda

for the icing:
300g cream cheese (I used 250g which was plenty)
150g icing sugar (1 cup)
125ml cream

Preheat the oven to 180C, and grease and line (yes! lining is essential) a 23 centimetre springform tin.

Pour the Guinness into a large saucepan, and add the sliced butter. Heat until the butter is melted, and remove the saucepan from the heat. Whisk in the cocoa and sugar. Beat the sour cream with the eggs and vanilla, then pour into the saucepan. Finally, beat in the flour and bicarb.

Pour the batter into the greased and lined tin, and bake for 45 mins to an hour. Leave to get completely cool in the tin, as it's quite a damp cake.

For the icing, beat the icing sugar and cream cheese together. Add the cream, and beat again until it's a spreadable consistency. Ice the top of the black cake until it resembles the frothy top of the famous pint.

First Snow

The first snow of the year has fallen. I awoke this norning to silent flurries of snow muffling the sound of the traffic on the road. As the cars were sooshing by I was looking out of my bedroom window nervously anticipating the journey to work. I am sure if I had not had those few misfortunate events early in my driving career, that I would be approaching the journey less with trepidation and more with gustso and joi de vivre!

....interlude whilst I take a call......oh no. Just been offered the opportunity (dubiously) to go to Diss for a meeting at short notice - travelling is horrid in snow at the best of times;luckily the lady is now coming to me...phew. I couldn't bear another car fiasco (did I mention the wrong fuel escapade last week? 200 quid I tell you - 200 quid!! to pump my tank - that was all my birthday money that Mum gave me)

Anyway, back to tye snow - I have new boots too and the scenes in the area look amazing. Silent drifts of snow are perching on tree boughs and old buildings remind me of Victorian Christmas cards; it really is beautiful. I love snow - absolutely love it. The joy of curling up in front of a fire and snuggling in for winyer with my Deanie (wish we had a fire at the moment - waiting for flue to be put in; freezing feet and the feeling of warmth tingle on through them; the little flutter as you get to wear your favourite scarf and know that this time it will be put to real use as it fends of the blustery cold; like I said, I love snow. Just not when I drive in it wwhen all the tight knots in my stomach feel like they will explode and I worry about not stopping and hitting cars and finally losing my freedom as I am relegated to lifts with friends and public transport; dictating to me what I can do and when.

I love watching the snow flurry in earnest to settle on the ground so I can run through it and make the first footprints, like the times I used to share with my old dog Mickey, when the snow would settle on his whiskers and he would look like a wisened old man. I love the snow then, as I rememeber all the times I had my escapades as a child, including running out and getting tonsillitus as I picked up the snow with such joy and then felt ill for days.

Snow is a double edged sword - beautiful and a real pleasure but painful and, can be deadly. It can cause fear and joy all at once which is always brought back to our minds with the fisrt snowfall of the year.

Do I still love the snow? Maybe, I just love snow most of the time just not when I have to travel very far. Yes, that's it, I love snow, nearly all the time.....

Happy New Year

Wow! Happy New Year. Dean and I are back from out travels to warmer climates and aside from some general peskiness (friends, bugs, bombs, a crashed bus and general jetlag) all went really well!

Since I last wrote, the garden bloomed, the neighbours cat's poo'd in it, the veg were nice (minus the cat's gifts) and all was jolly well. I am still a cookbook-aholic with large volumes cluttering large spaces in rooms that want to be large and can rememeber a time when they were (poor lambs. Dean and I are going from strenghth to strength - I tell him off and he tells me off and then we both sulk, grimace, stomp feet and generallly act childish 9he says I do, I say he does - get the picture?) but he is so terribly lovely. Then we have the impenindg 30th's f my clan - Jane kicked of the festivities in October with hers at the Holiday Inn 9I am still reeling from the bar tab of £9.30 for two single drinks - shocking) and then as usual, Kathryn, myself, Nat and Lyn's all close ranks in that order throughout until August - crumbs! What an expensive but partying year.....

Where as I? Oh yes - Dean and I went on holiday with the rest of the clan t Thailand to visit hi brither Neil who lives there. I learn't some more Thai, went on a cookery course, shopped till Bangkok dropped (serious bargainer here - 1250 baht in Patpong for a tshirt? No, love, I said 100 baht..... the lady took it after saying'Tell Mummy how much you pay?' My Mummy normally gives me stuff I replied....)Jolly good tome and Dean and share New Year with a small party at Fishermas Cottage in Koh Lanta, my friend Nicky, woodlouse infestation, cockroaches and a remarkably friendly frog. He kept popping into our outside bathroom for a chat at night - didn't talk much but that's ok as I talked for both of us....

We arrived home safe and sound minus some booze which we had bought at BKK AIRPORT - it appears that the sealing bags of liquids standard is not universal. The man at Schipol who confiscated it was a bit of a jobsworth and I would like him to answer a few questions such as - how did I get two litres of drink halfway around the world? If it is suc as risk, why did he not destroy it immediately or a least pop it in a container with bombproof elements? Surely a threat is worse at an airport/ Needless to say that the airports will be getting a stiff letter. Dean's Mum has already sent one.

So what next/ Well, the garden is starting to look in need of some love so I aim to get that all started a bit earlier tis year and grow some new lavendar (hooray- bee's and butterfliies, I also need to use my new Kenwood Chef (gained through a devious plan involving my mum and getting her to wrap it for me - long story), as well as trying not to buy copious amounts of books this year and blogging more regularly to help with that addiction 9hey, I could be buying nasty stuff) On top of that, preparig for my 30th birthday and finally, but certainly not at the bottom, losing all these punds - I have got fitter but still far to plump. Oh, and anothet thing......making space at home..... Well, here goes, I'll trya nd write soon but am off to read a book and shake the rest of my jetlag off (don't go on the roads kids, it's not great driving with jetlag..)

....and autumn falls

Today was a warm, lovely day reminiscent of the summer that we strated to have that degraded into rain in mid-August. During that month instead of feeling sun kissed, golden and in love with the earth, I felt anxious about my tomatoes (since gone mouldy) and a bit harrassed and windswept (mainly due to work). However, I am currently roaring down the A47 with the windows open each morning and enjoying the last fragments of freedom before Winter gobbles me up and pops me into hibernation.

Since last writing, the garden has come on in leaps and bounds with things actually growing and looking planty, except the mouldy tomatoes. Due to a rather large spider threatening to pull me into his web, I cannot reach the runner beans at the moment, but they look nice from a distance and I am sure all the insects are having a jolly nice feed.

Really, the summer has been successful and the OH and I are busier than ever. We are keen to finsih the house and save some dosh as we are off on our hols in December to sunny (hurray) Thailand for three weeks. In celebration, I have signed up to a mini photography course so I can take decent pictures amnd maybe one day, wow you dear reader with pictures of my my gardening and food attemps.

As winter falls, the nights are drawing in and as I write the dark has crept up and swallowed the room. Good night.

It's a bugs life

Well the courgette plant slowly crept up behind it's neighbouring bed fellows and grew over night. In the last few weeks it has overtaken most of the veg bed (now a courgette bed) and is producing flowere left right and centre. Great - so what is the ideal length to pick them? My book says 10 - 13cm, but that seems very small - should they not be a bit bigger? Is it just fashion speaking?

A keen gardener I know said they should be picked asap but that means they will be quite small - hardly enough to scoff in a ratatouille- but apparently they grow into marrow's overnight - hmmm reminds me of Wallace and Gromit and the Wererabbit. All I know is, I have pleanty of bugs and no rabbits, and courgettes have a prickly underside.

Now, the bugs in my garden seem to be very happy with my gardening efforts, when I see fly and so forth, I pop them outside and try to get all the bugs to die and get eaten by birds (my Mum's suggestion0, but birds don't seem to like landing in our garden - damn neighbours cats I think. Anyway, why are there so many different coloured micro bugs when one will do/ Why are they eating all the basil, the host and anything else they can scuttle to/ Slugs and snails aren't an issue - squash em, salt them, throw em; as long as they aren't near a plant fine. But these ones have little legs (I have good eyesight), and they have friends. I wish they would go and munch somewhere else, I can see gardening being a game of two halves- me planting and them munching. I didn't say fair halves.

First Blush

Wow. My first tomato popped of the vine last night. It was a mottled red with an orange tinge, and where it had been on the vine, a slight green knobble. It was small and perfectly round. It wasn't the deep, luscious red of tomatoes in supermarkets (no doubt fiddled with) but, it was just right. Deeply satisfied and excited that no doubt there will be a glut (please, please don't let the sun and heat burn them to a cinder!) I have decided to use that little, first tomato as a isgn to spur me on. I am now investigating wormeries so I can create my own feed to keep the sweet little things as happy as they make me....before I devour and wolf them all down as part of a summer feast!

Summer Days

Ah absolute bliss. I'd had a rather stressful day at the office on Friday and had called the OH requesting a much needed visit to the pub for that night - I needed a lot of beer, sun and the hum of sunny days conversation.

However, what a surprise! The boyfriend calls me back and says, let's go for a picnic by thr river - we know a great little spot.

So, when we were home from work that evening we packed some nibbles such as crisps and a muffin or two as well as salami, feta, oat biscuits, Prosecco, olives from Portugal and then off we set. We wandered down the shady, leafy lanes and oevr the train tracks and towards the river. About half way we towards the river, we crossed over a stile and ambled across the eadow, with it's huge singular trees amongst all the cut reeds. There is a little footpast that winds across twards the new Broad and en route, it crosses over a little bride lined with old telegraph poles. It is the perfect place to sit and look acros the waterway spotting bees humming in the clover, ladybirds and butterflies and watch the stunning (yellow)summer iris'sway in the breeze. As the evening cooled, we chatted, ate, enjoyed a perfect summer evening and then slowly walked home. Perfect.

England Wins!

.....well I did in the kitchen; and England won against Trinidad and Tobago in the World Cup tonight - very boring so I rummaged up a meal for my mate Andrew and I.

Fab chicken with cherry sauce - non too tart, I was a bit worried. Basically it goes like this:

Pan fry two chicken breast (I did 4) they should be dipped in seasoned flour first.

Then remove from the pan and add Dijon mustard or wholegrain, a generous splosh of white wine, balsamic vinegar, veg stock and seasoning. I also added onion and garlic. Pop the cherries in, as many as you prefer and then reduce. Add the chicken back to the pan or keep warm in the oven. Then serve with a selection of veg. We had pan fried asparagus, peas, and roasted potatoes done in Olive oil. All was great and followed by Ben and Jerry's ice cream, Porter Ale from St Peters Brewery and my Nan's homemade sloe gin - fantastic!

We have been sitting here playing about with design on the blog, set up a counter (like the worm?) and then A told me why Radio Norfolk keep playing a certain Queen song, he advised it was because of the world cup - typical.

Oh well, enjoy....

....and another thing (aka me and hopeless are twins)

.....as I was saying in Rants, it is all bit bad when two people get really angry and horrid with each other because there is so much feeling abound. I will never understand why I could love him and he could never love me, even though he wanted me to stay. He had no idea how hurt I was and I had no idea that he was more screwed up than I was. I wanted love and I wasn't looking for it but thought I had it - if that makes sense.

We used to have some marvellous times, larking about, eating out (food was a big thing) and I loved (and I mean LOVED) buying wacky presents for him.

He thought I was upset about his new girlfriend (well I was, but not to be sad enough to try and split them up, I seem to recall his ex doing that to us). It makes me angry though that he finally has respect for this new person, won't let her get upset, walks tall and proud with her, but hid me and appeared to have no respect for me. He doesn't get it but I needed to tell him how I felt and all the hurt and anxiety that had been bubbling away inside me for months whilst we were together, but wasn't allowed to tell in case I upset someone. His new relationship was a catalyst for this. Finally, the time when I try to tell someone how I feel and I lose them and they hate me. Do I really deserve that?

Sometimes there are points in a relationship when you know things and there are points when you ignore whats being said as you are too thrilled to be with that person. I hated being vulnerable every day and not knowing when my heart was going to break, or when i'd be stuffed in a cupboard to spare everyone else's feelings but mine. That's no fun.

I know! I chew everyone's ear off and they all think I am daft to feel so sad over it all as he's older and I have a more certain future now (alright, maybe I am) but hey, you got feeling, then you got soul! I mean, I finished it but I never thought I would say it was because I loved someone, which I did. Now I am a bunny boiler (according to him). And how can he work from a base where I am worse than the last one? If only you knew what she did! I am not even halfway there.

I was thinking last night - maybe it is me - there was my friend at UNI - I finished with him and then all my friends hated me, then there was the long termer at UNI - he went to another country (was I THAT bad?) and then there was him - not what I planned, hell I wanted to live in China after the last one (I really did),and now I have friends (?) who find it awkward to associate with me.

Will we ever speak? Will he ever speak to me again or think 'hmm. that was a nice chat/meal/time that we had'?

AM I REALLY THAT BAD?

Rants

Below is a post I wrote some time ago but never published. I am a rational human being but the sentiments are the same - I am still feeling all rubbish for failing at something and generally having a bad time - there the guilt of a Catholic girl; why do we always blame our moral upbringings (very useful for when you have kids, not so good for when you develop a complex)?. I am still all wounded and it doesn't help that everytime I enter his 'territory' I feel sick to the pit of my stomach with worry and rejection. I think he talks about me, makes dispersions about me as a person, how I was immature, too much like a little girl, too young, I meant nothing...you know usual oh-god-it's all-gone-wrong-and-I-really-am-that-bad stuff.I know rationally that he just isn't thinking about it and probably, it's just a straightforward he-hates-my-guts scenario. It always amazes me how people who cared and laugh together end up getting all snarly with each other and pretty bloody grumpy. Well, as the legend of Pandora's box notes, out of the box after all the bad things, came a small object that was all shiny and glowed with light; that was hope. Now where is the world if we don't have that (ethical save the planet head is on)? One day I hope we will be nice to each other again.So to my ex - I have tried to make the peace , hope is there and the door is open. Rock on up. By the way, I deleted all your numbers, it's a coping thing...

Here's the ranty bit (you have been warned):
Now I do like a little rant. Always one to let of steam and get grouchy, I do like a grumble - who doesn't? But sometimes, well, things just eat at you and they stop you getting on with things.

Now I have had a day of two halfs. It was all terribly exciting as I am getting involved in an event for work, which in all liklihood could be doomed for failure as it's all been a bit last minute by the organisers but hey at least they are trying. So I got to chat about events and realise that I do have a passion at last and then I got to see some old friends and catch up. Great half.

However, the other half was seeing the top of the ex's head and hearing his voice. He picked up the phone when I called to speak to my friend. No how are you's, tentative hellos or anything. Personally, I suspect he wishes I was on another planet. Yes, I still hurt - guilty as charged. However, at least I sent a text offering a cuppa - a wobbly wave of the peace flag but at least it was a wobble. No reply. Worst fears confirmed - I am a horrid person, but why do I set so much store in what he thinks? Now he ( well ok, the situation) has been making me cranky and miserable for ages as we have had a falling out. I got a bit funny at Christmas time and it all went into overdrive and we were being reactionary to each other. Simply; we don't communicate any more. You can take the relationship stuff but what's really sad is the natural click we had as friends and then the terrible things we thought and said about or to, each other. I love my boyfriend very much and I know that he loves me, that's not the quibble and I have no intention of buggering off just yet.

It's the self loathing and shame I feel about myself. Knowing that I got all het up and angry about something that I know, I had no power to change.All my pride and competitive bits are shining through; I feel mean and wounded all at once, and I feel quite ashamed and very sad that I have lost a friend that I made when I first returned to Norfolk and sometimes I think I am quite bonkers but I suspect that we all go there at some time or another. A bit like a rottweiler with a bone....unable to let go and all grouchy.

Book Habit

It's always the way; you go to your fave book site and end up ordering stuff that you really only lusted over and then you feel terribly guilty as all your rainyday money goes down the pan....I raise my hand and admit I have a book habit - one day I'll count them and let you know how many but the cook books alone, I would say, can guestimate in the 300 region. And I always seem to buy them for presents for people!

It's the lure of the bookshops you see. You get sucked in by the gorgeous pile of bargains on display and then you browse away looking for hidden gems that you would hate to pay too much money for in a regular bookshop. Instead you see ones that have dusty covers, elusive first editions, that must have recipe that you promise to cook immediately and finally, you come across the book that you were really looking for. The gasp of pleasure, the furtive look and possessive hand on the shelf as you look for more, the thrill of getting to the till and paying and then the guilt knowing that the bookshelf and the OH may give way at any moment. Nightmares are filled with charity shops being filled with your books and a big skip outside where they all get wet in the rain - I can't bear it!

Somebody once told me that it will never matter how many cookbooks you have, even if there is only one recipe you use, it is worth it. I don't use mine specifically, more adapt from with some disastrous consequences - cest la vie! I keep meaning to cross reference mine, alphabetise, copy recipes and discard, but it never happens. I love my books and the weighty feel of them, splashes of food and dog eared corners mean that they are fondly used (my Auntie said that a well used book is a good book - ie the more you splish and splash it means it is obviously being put to good use). I always say that a good cook book (well, food in general) is porn for the soul. Fabulous, dirty and secret. So naughty and you know you will get in trouble! I used to do a lot of dangerous sport, now I shop for books. It's the thrill of the shelf snapping that I'm weighting for.....

Looking Back ....

Sometime you look back and think 'oh yeah, I remember that'. I do that a lot - I remember sounds and senses, people and places - sometimes living in the past can do that - you think it is all so much better!

I listen to Laura's diary on Radio one in the evenings and I found a few diaries of my own the other day - it's brilliant reading back and remembering all the adventures you have had and how life events were so important to you and, you-centric when you were 17! Do we lose that as we get older? I suppose we do. I have looked back today at some of my past blogs - I rememeber looking out at the sea as I wrote one of them, I remember the strength of my promise to stop buying cook books as I indicated in my first ever entry and I remember the joy of passing my test! Funny what you recall and all the sights, sounds and smells. I often wonder if my friends remember the same things and how! I am also conscious that by having a life online I a more exposed and will always watch what I say and think. >

Bed (S)!

I may be getting a raised bed - hurrah, veggies here I come - something useful and hopefully I won;t end up killing them! Hmmmm, now whwre to put it, Dean has visions of a)not having one, b)have one but I take all responsibility and c) it must be in a corner (nobody put's baby [veg] in a corner - ah Patrick Swayze, what happened?).

Now the problem with the corner is that a) I have a romantic vision of this little corner seat with a gazebo of flowers to cover the drain - it may not happen but it is a dream and b) the corner has a drain - what if it leaks? I know we should be organic but I'm not that keen on being that organic yet!

But what joy, homegrown butternut squashes, courgettes (no marrows please), parsnips, tomatoes and much more - I will be in foodie heaven and my drean of self sustainability will be that much closer....I wonder if I can bribe the OH with more scalextric? Now there 's a thought.

Spring

Spring has finally sprung here in the UK. Admittedly, it's a little dull still and the evenings can be slightly chilly - but oh yes! those few moments of sunshine and warmth when you can don the shades and imagine summer, well, it's heaven on a plate!

And with spring, comes the ideas of a better person - fitter, healthier, more direction....doesn't it always - I inevitably end up wearing trackies around the house professing to be the next Nigella - Dean will tell you that the artistic ability in the kitchen that I claim to have, does not lend itself to be being creatively tidy or non - burning in nature! I feel very under -appreciated!

Anyway, the OH and I decided to be all lovey dovey on Saturday. Dean was very tidily creative and made cakes for my Nan (yum chocolate sponge cakes) and this gorgeous (please attribute that to my lovely cake stands that he hates!) chocolate cake with a lovely creme fraiche and chocolate ganache in the centre, covered in chocolate icing and walnuts - it looked great! Meanwhile, I was using some excellent steaks from the butchers in Wymondham. Hung well and with a great flavour, they were pan fried, shallots added half way through and the steaks left to rest, and then red wine reduction - hmmmmm, very tasty. Meanwhile the carotts were in batons and popped in the oven with lashings of olive oil, herbs and honey. But not a couple to dwell on oily food (I had to use dripping for the roast potatoes though as they were delicious!) we did ensure we had boiled peas. It may not seem classy but it was food for the soul!

Then the rest of the weekend was spent in comfort heaven with bacon sarnies (three rashers, please!) and a huge meal at the OH aunts - the menu was something like this........ homemade chicken liver pate, dips and nibbles, then a smoked salmon,cockles and prawn starter (I'm not fond of fish but tha salmon was ok) followed by beef wellington (quite rare for me but it was nice) and chicken and sausages with lots of veg! Very tasty and then!!!! Rich chocolate cheesecake from the Sainsbury's magazine (will post recipe next time), hollowed out pineapple with strawberries and cream, fruit and birthday cake. Conversation centred around food such as how to smoke it, terrible things that can happen, the egg catastrophe (my horrid attempt at ice cream) and a raised garden bed! Hurrah, I may have one after all....all in all a huge success and now the time has come to convert my chef friend into an avid blogger....that way I get cheeky tips..... watch this space!

Valentines Day

Well, the most romantic (in commercial terms) day of the year has been and gone. Norwich played at home to Brighton (and won 3-0) but I suspect that some of the people watching it had lost out in other ways or been hit with a fairly hefty forfeit of some kind!

What did I do? Well, as we are entering the realms of trying to cut down on mass consumerism (OH thinks I buy far too much and he's right - sadly!) we went for a romantic drive along the old coast road; even the stars of the 40's would have been jealous! After wending our way through Wroxham with all it's glittering lights (and we couldn't help but comment on the chippy, we were hungry!) we made our way through Bacton and Walcott and into Cromer. I love this old seaside town with it's great turreted houses with huge bay windows overlooking the sea and gigantic curved arches above. Everything is so near and the centre of the town is old cobbled streets which culminate at the pier. When lit, this fabulous structure is like a welcome beacon in the dark and I love to walk along it to gaze at the waves.

Last night, once we had arrived in Cromer and navigated the terrible one way system (did I forget to mention that?) we strooled into town and found the last open cgipshop. It's won awards apparently - certainly not for the spotty little herbert behind the counters engageing character but for the fantastic fish and chips. Not too greasy, not too big, the chips are very good and you get a decent potrion topped with great fish in burn amber crust of batter. Add the obligatory salt and vinegar and you have a meal for two for under a tenner in a very romantoic location. As we sat and watched the pier and the few people strolling about while we wolfed down our tea, a young couple feasted on fish and chips in one of the shelters and looked like they had even brought the candles. Love ain't dead! The OH and I had a gfreat time and then returned home so that we could could sup champagne. But we didn't; instead we had an old fashioned cup of tea (contemporary as the it was rooibos caffeine free) and then we ate the gorgeously dense snad chocolatey cake that I was made for Valentine's day and then I surfed the net and he watched Scrapheap Challenge. We did it because that's what we both wanted...no pressure to conform and just time to be with each other. Now that was great food, great Valentine's Day and great bliss......