A stab at a social life!

In an effort to increase our social life, the ‘mrs’ heard on the radio there was going to be a murder mystery play at a local church. The audience would be in teams, and try and guess the murder over a ploughman’s dinner. All this fun for only £4 each, so we decided to go. We had invited a couple of friends so we could be a super sloothy team of 4, but unfortunately when we got there we received a text to say they had been locked out of their house and couldn’t come.

We sat in the car for ages outside this church wondering what to do. Was it going to be filled with white middle class bible goers who might get a bit of a shock when we walk in with our rainbow bags and hats? After much deliberation we decided to go in; after all just think of the experiences you could miss if you don’t be brave and jump in. Leaving the car we made our way cautiously to the door of the church. The door was closed. Should we knock? Should be just barge in leading to the silence as everyone turns round? We opened the door tentatively and was greeted by a very smiley vicar man; rather camp with a bright red nose. It wouldn’t be right for me to assume he had been a bit too liberal with the communal wine!

We were asked what name had we booked under. Booked? I rang up for some information but didn’t know I had actually booked. The vicar man then said ‘ah Kate isn’t it’? He was either psychic or we were the only ones there who were not part of the established church going clientele. We were shown to our table which had a sticker on it with my name on; ah how sweet. On the table we had scrap pieces of paper to make notes throughout the play, and a guess sheet to lay down our ideas on who the evil murderer was. Then the vicar stood up and starting talking about how this was a novel way to celebrate Harvest Festival. What? This was Harvest Festival?? What happened to just donating a tin of peas at the back of the cupboard. Oh no, we were trapped. The doors had been shut. Still we were here now, so we should make the best of it and enjoy the live theatre.

The play started. It had obviously been a quick production because all the actors where reading from scripts. The acoustics in the church meant the words were pretty inaudible. I had no idea what was going on, and didn’t even realise when someone had been murdered! I tried, I really did, but I just ended up using the scrap paper to pass notes to the ‘mrs’ like when you were in class at school. It’s amazing how much you want to giggle and release gas when you are not allowed to. In short the play was awful, but they were trying hard bless em’. My favourite character was the oldest member of the cast who kept forgetting where she was supposed to be and jumped every time one of the prop people let off a noise, like a car horn. Bless!

During this long hour, while getting a numb bum, we were thinking about ways we could leave without being too suspicious. Soon there would be a break for a ploughmans so maybe we could slip out then. But what excuse could we give? Well we could pretend that our friends were still stuck as the locksmith had failed to materialise. That sounded plausible. At the break we were handed a paper plate with a role, two blocks of cheese, a cherry tomato and some lettuce. It was time for our escape, but not before I had eaten the bread. Hey this evening had cost me £9 with the tickets and the obligatory raffle tickets, so I was going to eat my bread.


After this the ‘mrs’ made a telephone call to her friend to see how she was getting on, making sure the table next to us heard the words “do you need rescuing?”. The reality was the locksmith had arrived and they were inside, but mrs nosey britches next door didn’t need to know that. Gathering our stuff we made our way out. Just as we got to the door we were accosted by the vicar man, to whom we regaled the story of the friends left out in the cold. We thanked him for a lovely evening and were given a booklet about the church, with an invitation to not be a stranger. We then took our chance and escaped. We had lied to a vicar. Shall we be going to hell? I don’t believe in hell so I am going to say no, after all he’s just a man in a frock. So it would be like lying to a drag queen surely?

After this we made our way to our friends house for some diet coke and chats. So after all it was an interesting social evening, that we can laugh about.

Christmas Has Escaped!

Oh dear; it’s happened. This morning I saw my first Christmas products in the shop to buy; chocolate santas and Christmas puddings. Why is it that as soon as there is a ‘ber’ at the end of the month and the first leave turns slightly brown, every shop seems to become festooned with gordy cardboard adverts with printed holly.

I am not being ‘bah humbug’ or anything, but don’t you get tired of the swimming costumes and t-shirts suddenly being replaced with crackers and tinsel. Come on people, it’s September. I don’t want to see anything until at least after Bonfire Night. No matter how much you try and suppress Christmas until you absolutely have to, it always seems to escape far too early. I support we have the joys of 3 months of Christmas adverts to drive me crazy. As we get closer to the season of giving, I almost crave normal adverts with no jingle bells or fake snow. Come back shake’n’vac, all is forgiven!

What I fail to understand is when there are edible Christmas products in the shops with the words ‘perfect for Xmas day’, such as mince pies, displaying a use by date is in ovember. Personally I like mince pies, and don’t see why they can’t be available all year round, but surely this is false advertising.

I am not anti-Christmas; I'm just anti-Christmas RIGHT NOW!

Okay rant over!

Is The Whole Nation Lazy Cooks? - RANT

Don’t get me wrong, I am certainly not one for pouring over pots and pans for hours; in fact if I can do everything in the one pan in 20 minutes, I will. I was in Lidl this morning when the guy in front of me was buying some microwave rice in a foil packet. The man at the checkout was really interested, stating that he would have to get some. His reasons were:

1. I can’t be bothered to wait for the 15 minutes for the rice to boil.
2. The curry I make takes 20 minutes and I don’t want to wait an extra 15 for the rice.
3. Saves using a pan

Okay I have some issues. Firstly pasta and rice are one of the cheapest ingredients around and I think it’s just criminal to spend at least 10 times the price on a 2 minute product. Secondly why does this young man have to wait an ‘extra’ 15 minutes on top of the curry. Now here’s a bright idea. I know it will seem a bit radical, but how about cooking the rice and the curry at the SAME time. I know my ideas are just out there!

I will subscribe to the fact that he might not be able to cook two things at once if he only had a hot plate, but on the basis that he wants to buy microwave rice, I conclude that he does at least have a microwave. In this case he can make ‘jug rice’, which is a personal favourite of mine. Take a large pyrex jug, or even a large bowl, throw some rice in, cover with boiling water and pop in the microwave for high 12-15 minutes. Drain and then use the same bowl to eat out of. Less washing up and the bowl will already be hot keeping the food warm. The same can be done with pasta.

Now I know some may shout at me saying how quick it is if you are really hungry, but surely anyone can wait 12 minutes. My suggestion is that if you come in REALLY hungry, pop some rice or pasta in the microwave, then take off your shoes, hang up your coat, have a wee, go through the junk mail and pet the cat. By the time you have done all this you will hear ‘ping’ and dinner is served!

As a nation I think we are becoming lazier and lazier. We shall be breeding a generation of people who thinks the only way to have lasagne is to buy it ready made, don’t know that chips come from potatoes and that milk comes, not from cows, but Tesco! A few years ago I was at the checkout in Asda buying a huge 5kg bag of pasta, when the checkout lady (who was estimated to be about 25) said “oh I’ve heard of pasta is it nice?”. She then asked me how to cook it and what you have it with. How can you have got to 25 and not eaten pasta? I applaud the fact that she was interested in trying new things, but come on people put down the home fries!

But I want to eat it NOW!!

Okay I said I was going to try and be positive, but I think I am overdue for a rant. The chosen topic for today is fruit. Why can’t I go into a supermarket, buy a punnet of plums and eat them. Why do I have to leave them in the sunshine for a few days or even a week. So you don’t complain they tell you in advance with a ‘ripen at home ‘sticker.

I appreciate that fruit is picked in some country a million miles away while it is still green and containing no natural sugar, packed into steel containers, sprayed with some sort of gas (ether in the case of bananas) to produce a ripe colour (but not flavour), then packaged and stuck on our shelves. This fruit is hard and tasteless. I would like to buy the local produce in the supermarkets but it’s hard to find and generally much more expensive. Mad that fruit 10 miles down the road is more expensive than a million miles away!

I should look more for farmers markets. But let’s be honest here we all creatures of convenience and like to get most of their stuff from one place. If I want quality I should make the effort. I am pasting this link of farmers markets in east sussex for myself as a reminder. http://www.eastsussex.gov.uk/leisureandtourism/foodanddrink/farmersmarkets/farmersmarkets.htm

If you know of any good ones, let me know!

A Fortnight of Firsts

Well it’s been a while since I have blogged, and obviously the nation is waiting in baited breath to see what mind blowing adventures I have getting up to. Well nothing that will change civilisation as we know it, but there have been a few firsts; good and bad:

Cinema: The ‘mrs’ and I went on our first outing to the cinema to watch Shrek 3. We saw it on the preview weekend on a Saturday afternoon, so you can imagine how many small people were there. Despite wanting this to be a positive blog, I am going to have a rant here. As part of the Shrek promotion every child received a pair of FREE shrek ears with their ticket. When I asked if I could have a pair I was told “NO” because they only came with a child ticket. NOW HANG ON A MINUTE! I paid nearly twice the price for my adult ticket so by rights those ears should be mine. Don’t assume that just because I am an adult I wouldn’t want to have some fun with a pair of green felt ears. I did think about mugging a small child but then thought better of it. After the film had finished I waited until everyone had left the auditorium, but unfortunately no careless child had left any behind; just a frightful gunky mess of popcorn and spilt drinks! I feel discriminated against for the movie industry amusing I was a mature adult – the cheek!

Massage: As part of a ‘buy one get one half price’ promotion at the salon, the ‘mrs’ treated me to an Indian head massage. I had never had a massage before and was a bit anxious on what they would do. However an Indian head massage didn’t sound that invasive. Anyway I arrived and went into a room the size of the CBBC broom cupboard (those of you over 25 will know what I mean), and was greeted to candles, pan pipe music (like you hear in hippy shops) and the smell of lavender oil. I took off my t-shirt and wrapped myself in a towel and placed my feet onto a rolled up towel on the floor. I was then subjected to 45 minutes of pressing, squidging, pummelling and rubbing on my head, neck, shoulders, upper back, hands and arms (a bit odd for a head massage!). It was a bit awkward when the CD stopped and she had to change it with oil covered hands. I kept thinking “poor sod, I bet she’s listened to this 400 times today already”!. I left feeling all sleepy and quite relaxed and ready for an afternoon of doing nothing at all!

Chinese meal: As part of the spontaneous ‘let’s pamper me day’, after the massage I was treated to a sit down meal as a Chinese restaurant. Technically this was not our first sit down Chinese together, but last time we had a meal as a foursome with two friends, so I am calling this ‘our’ first Chinese meal on a technicality (ooo I could be a lawyer). The restaurant had a special lunch time menu, which was beyond appalling for vegetarians. After telling the waitress that it wasn’t really suitable and we should go somewhere else, she suddenly gave us the full menu and said we could choose anything and she would count it under the lunchtime special. Ha ha, the power of the vegetarian – I wonder if I should get a cape and sword! After scoffing satay mushrooms, black bean tofu with noodles and battered pineapple we returned to the flat cursing ourselves for not bringing the car and having to walk up the hill.

Books: Now reading a book is not a first for me, but it is a first in many years. I am not a big reader, choosing the lazy option of a film every time, allowing the story to be fed to me with no effort on my part. Being an unemployed bum at the moment and having some moments where I need to kill time, the ‘mrs’ introduced to me to the idea of books. After the initial shaking in my boots, she persuaded me to read ‘The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time’ by Mark Haddon. It is sold as a mystery book, but really it is a wonderful insight into the mind of the 15 year old Autistic boy who is telling the story. Having spent a few years with Autistic young people, much of it made me smile in recognition. It is a very good book, with good font size and line spacing, which I think is often just as important as the content! I am now reading ‘Does my Bum Look Big in This’, which is the diary of a 30 something and her thoughts about dating and views on her own body and self esteem. If this is a true reflection on how women think….god help us all! I think this paranoid women is boarding on schizophrenia! Still an interesting read even just as a social insight. Nearly 2 books in a week; this is SO not like me!

Hotel: The ‘mrs’ and I had our first night away together than didn’t involve staying with relatives, friends or sleeping under canvass! She had a conference to attend some distance away warranting a night away in a Travel Lodge (o.k. not really a hotel). Not one to throw the away the opportunity for some free shower caps (good for dying ones hair) I decided to tag along. Not much to report really, except there was no free shower caps – BUM! The ‘mrs’ wasn’t happy with the standard of the room and rated it 2/10 in customer feedback. The bed was over soft, the room was dusty and being on the ground floor we couldn’t open the window. Still it does go down as a first!

Missed Opportunities: Due to other commitments and forgetting we both managed to miss our ballroom dancing class. There is often repetition from the week before, and although we were learning some new moves I reckon that because we are so bloody good (couch cough) we should be able to catch up easily. Secondly we forgot to put out the bins and so we have 2 weeks works of rubbish and recycling stacking up. Ooops we shouldn’t have prioritised sleeping over putting out the rubbish! Sorry forgetting these, is another first!

Pancakes: Although this might be scraping the bottom of the barrel saying it was the first time the ‘mrs’ and I had pancakes together, but I feel there was real significance. She was adamant she not going to cook the pancakes as all attempts in the past had resulted in a battery splodge in the middle of the pan. With some encouragement and tips on the best way to wiggle the flippy thing (I think it’s called a spatula, but answers on a postcard please), we had success. She cooked 7 pancakes all of which were perfect, so BIG gold stars for her. Does that mean from now on I can sit on the sofa watching morning television waiting to be served? Mmmm possibly not!

Let's see what happens next week!

The Big Day!

Yesterday was the ‘mrs’ 29th birthday, and I feel a good time was had by all. After all, all the right ingredients were there:

* balloons in various colours and sizes
* streamers
* party hats
* those noisy things you blow
* a homemade cake

Fortunately for me (and not for her) she had to go to work in the morning, which gave me ample opportunity to make a cake. Now I am a cake novice. I have many many skills in cake consumption; especially those of the walnut layered and carrot variety, but making is a no no. Earlier in the week I had consulted the Queen i.e. Delia online, for some spiritual guidance. According to many, making a sponge is a complicated affair, with bits to add here, then cream, then bits to add there, all beautifully timed using the wisdom of Tibetan monks. Being the impatient sort, and lucky for me, the owner of a £6.99 electric whisk, I decided to follow the gurus idea of the ‘all in one’ (http://www.deliaonline.com/cookery-school/how-to/how-to-make-all-in-one-sponge,13,AR.html). Now any recipe that advises you to bung all the ingredients in a bowl and just go ‘whzzzzzzzz’ with the electric whisk is the one for me.

After mixing the ingredients and getting 40% of the mixture up the walls, I carefully spooned this sweet smelling concoction into 2 recently purchased sandwich cake tins (lined using pre-historic GCSE cookery skills). Into the oven it went for 30 minutes while I paced nervously up and down the flat, like an expectant father. After this time had elapsed, I ran to the kitchen to view my creation. Oh the smell was amazing. I could have gobbled it up there and then and pretended I hadn’t got round to making a cake. But in my effort to be a good girlfriend, I left well alone.

After cooling, filling with posh black cherry jam and smothering with BLUE butter icing (again recipe from the BBC), I was ready for the sprinkles! Now some will tell you sprinkles are just sprinkles, but NO, there are many subtle varieties. Originally I was going to use hundreds and thousands; a ‘mrs’ favourite. But during recent scientific exploration it has been discovered that the slightly cylindrical ‘sugar strands’, are much more the order of the day. Not wanting to do things by a halves I gleefully dumped an entire pot over the waiting butter icing. These sprinkles will stick to anything; food, fingers, socks, work tops, walls, floors, clothes and anything else in a 5m radial vicinity. After crunching my way round the kitchen the creation was finally finished.

When she returned from the work, we conducted the traditional societal ceremony of lighting the candles, singing of the song and the applause at the end. In a bid to be amusing, I had used re-lighting candles, that always seemed so magical as a child. As an adult you are less concerned with the magic, and more worried about the massive clouds of smoke created each time you blow and whether the smoke alarm will be activated. Oh I am SO getting old!

After lunch and a quick unscheduled snooze on the sofa, we went down town (feel free to sing at this point), for the 4.30 appointment with a massage therapist which I had a bought as one of my gifts i.e. ‘the experience’ gift. During the procedure, I sat in the waiting area thumbing through copies of ‘hair and beauty’, wondering how ANYONE could expect to live up to the ideology that is being sold. By the time I had finished an article on ‘your acrylic nails and you’ (a nomination for the Pulitzer no doubt), she had finished and looked very relaxed and a bit oily.

Not wishing to go back to the flat quite yet, and fall into the trap of crap food and telly, we decided to take full advantage of living by the sea and have a wonder down for a sit on the beach. After 15 minutes or so of appreciating the view and thinking how lucky we were, we decided to brave the wind and laughter of the drunk homeless people behind us, and go for a paddle. We removed our shoes and socks, rolled up our jeans and proceeded with caution and Indiana Jones style bravery. After a good 40 minutes of running in, running out, laughing and the odd squeal, we made our way back to the car trying to ignore the wet jeans, wet tops and wet pants, but revelling in the weird looks we were receiving.

After squelching our way back to the flat, we showered to remove the ‘sea bugs’ (if you have ever looked at a drop of sea water under the microscope you’ll know what I mean), and settled down for a birthday dinner of fresh pizza and strawberry cheesecake, topped off with some crap Big Brother Telly.

The evening was rounded off by downloading the pictures from day, laughing at getting soaked and dozing off on the sofa. To bed we went after what was a really fun day! I shall make it a point not to wait for special occasions to do silly things. People of the world unite in their silliness!

Save Yourselves!!

Is it possible for a common herb to take over the world? My thoughts this tea break is that this indeed could be a reasonable hypothesis. So what is the evidence for this bold and slightly hysterical statement? THIS:

Now although it might not look much to you dear readers, but this jungle of mint was bought as a tiny potted herb from Tesco only 5 days ago. Since then it has demanded daily watering, daily rotation away from the sun for even growth and my constant attention. In just those 5 days it has grown from a finger high herb to the size of my whole hand span. At this rate by next year I think it would have conquered the South East, by the end of 2008 the UK (although some parts of Scotland may be too cold) and in 2009 its tendrils will soon be penetrating Europe.

So hear is my plea; either RUN and save yourselves or make sure mint sauce is a condiment served with EVERY meal. Left unchecked, who knows what this green monster could do. You have been warned. Audrey II eat your heart out!

World Nutmeg Shortage - surely!

A world shortage of nutmeg can be the only explanation for this pitiful excuse for a custard tart. Now the package says it contain nutmeg, and the product shows some dark dusting on the surface, but I am not convinced. These dark circles of deception taste as much of nutmeg as chewing on the end of a biro. I think the manufacturers of said after dinner treats, employ oompa loompas to spray brown ink onto each tart under a web of lies and deceit.

This as bad as the budget pizzas which contain 3 strands of white anaemic cheese. I suppose you get what you pay for. Although I love the budget pizzas all soggy in the microwave covered in beans or spaghetti hoops, also known as scoops. Ah that is really living.

At the end of the day nutmeg or no nutmeg they all go down the same way; into my tummy…..mmmmm!

I’m a squirty girl in a squirty world!

For those of you thinking this is an explicit blog about rude things; then SHAME ON YOU. What I am referring to the delight that is over processed squirty cream. The ‘mrs’ and I have just had a glorious evening with a blackcurrent cheesecake and squirty cream (please take your minds out of the gutter).

Now I am not a snob, and was perfectly delighted with the best Spar had to offer. Unfortunately I am not in a financial position to indulge in the ‘real deal’ i.e. anchor squirty cream. This product is tooooo nice; to the extent that we used up over half a can on one cheesecake. But like many other people, when I apply the squirty yummyness, I like what ever I am eating to completely disappear under a mound of white foamy calories. Mmmmmm.

Now how many of you have eaten squirty cream straight out of the canister? I would say the numbers run into millions, even not admitted to. I can personally vouch for the amazing velocity of said cream. I was once caught with my head in the fridge unsuccessfully trying to conceal the cream within my cheeks, but performing my best hamster impression. As a joke I was slapped around the chops in a “you’ve been tango’d” stylee – I was stunned how far squirty cream can project up a wall!
There are a variety of things that can be done with squirty cream to while away those winter evenings. Here are but a few, but please feel free to add some more:

* Create interesting facial features; moustache, beard and comedy eyebrows
* Blind evil people if attacked in the street
* Write a letter on a VERY large piece of paper
* Create sculptures, such as snow men
* When it’s near the end of the can re-create a snow storm
* Make a comedy head on someone’s beer
* Decorate a Christmas tree during the festive season
* Mark out your own parking bay outside your house
* Emergency fire extinguisher

Go and explore this world of culinary science!

Is it really homemade?

While I ponder over another brew, beautifully house in my 'I hate diets' mug, while the rainbow one is waiting to be washed, I enjoy my Bart Simpson strawberry (allegedly) ice lolly. During this time I consider the notion of 'what is homemade'?

I, like many other people in the country am not a good cook; a fact confirmed by the look of dread on my best friend face when invited round for dinner. I am however, a good compiler; you know, some veg here, a jar of sauce there and a bit of pasta.....but a cook, I am not. This afternoon I have been in the kitchen trying to make a 'homemade' lasagne, however due to the heat in the kitchen and my laziness, I decided to opt for jars; 1 of budget bolognese sauce, 1 of of white sauce and 1 of cheese sauce. Aside from cooking a bit of veg, and grating some cheese, everything else was made by Asda! Could I really consider this homemade, when all I did was compile?

If I put a part baked roll in the oven, I would not have audacity to call the warm rounded blobs of heaven, homemade. So what is the definition.

I read somewhere (o.k. that’s a lie, it was probably on the television), that a restaurant only has to add one ingredient to call the food homemade. This could be as little as adding salt to a tin of soup. Surely this is fraud?!?!

If anyone has any knowledge on the subject I would love to be informed.

Yet again, I shall leave you to ponder