Winter warmer: slow cooked pork and cider casserole

Adventures with my slow cooker continue. I still can't quite get over the wonder of chopping a few things before breakfast, flicking a switch, and coming home to a beautiful smelling flat several hours later.

This week, I tried pork, apples and cider, with a little thyme. The results were absolutely delicious - tender pork and sharp apples in a lovely rich, scented, sweet and savoury sauce. Again, much too much sauce - I would recommend using half the amount of cider I did - although eating my supper of stew and mash with a spoon only served to increase the comfort food factor. The apples disintegrate, but it serve to thicken the sauce (slightly).

I also used more meat than usual - about twice as much. For some reason, I instinctively serve more pork than other meats. You could halve it - this was a very generous, even snooze-inducingly large portion - but I'd add a littlemore root veg to bulk it out if so.

Knitting: baby hat and bootees

So. Someone I'm very fond of is pregnant. Once the screaming, squealing, and congratulating (and the three month mark - I'm superstitious) was past, I did what came naturally, and got out my knitting needles and some very brightly coloured yarn, knowing that this baby's parents won't want pastels.

Slow-cooked beef stew

I've been flirting with the idea of getting a slow cooker for a while now, but wasn't sure if I'd actually use it. I was pretty certain we didn't have space for it.

But when we went to visit my aunt and cousins a couple of weeks ago, my aunt served up the most delicious, sophisticated lemon and lamb stew. Which cooked in her slow cooker while we drank and caught up. My aunt, and my cousin, who is a student, talked about how useful their slow cookers were. My cousin will put a stew on for her housemates before going to lectures.

Not knitting! Emily Peacock Cross Stitch kit

When I was little, I loved counted cross stitch. I loved carefully following a diagram, and turning a blank sheet of fabric into a picture. I loved how complex shapes could be made from lots of tiny squares, and how the texture of the fabric could be completely changed as each square was replaced with a stitch. And I loved the calming effect of carefully putting the needle through the fabric, again, and again, and again.

A soup so scrumptious it got me blogging again: Thai carrot and coriander

The weekly huge batches of soup started up again about six weeks ago. Once again it's cold enough in Edinburgh for a huge mug of warm, comforting soup to be the best possible lunch option.

Up until this weekend I'd been repeating myself, cooking things I'd done (and usually blogged) before. One week the weekend was so busy we bought a stack of cans of soup instead. The world didn't end, although gratifyingly they weren't as good, as healthy or as cheap as the ones I make.

But this one is so good I had to share. It's based on one my aunt gave us for lunch when we went to visit last weekend - a delicious bought fresh soup. The budget's too tight for us to buy fresh soup for weekday lunches, so when we got home we decided to experiment, and came up with the following. It's got a kick to it, and is thoroughly warming and filling on a cool day. Lovely. And if you care about such things it's very low fat, and only one propoint a portion.

Simply scrumptious: lemon sole with chive butter

Sometimes, I crave simple, clean flavours. After a heavy weekend, being spoilt rotten, by Monday night I would have happily eaten nursery food

But on reflection, I decided that what I wanted most was the delicate flavour of white fish.

I know you shouldn't buy fish on a Monday, but I decided I trusted our local supermarket to only sell us something fresh, and sent the husband to investigate while I was at work. He returned with two lovely lemon sole fillets, some new potatoes, and some broccoli. This became a delicious 15 minute meal.

Guacamole-ish

I've been having some luck with the special offers corner in my local Waitrose lately. After the £1.11 beef joint which yielded two steaks and two rather yummy salads, I've been casting my eye over it every time I walk past. I've never got that lucky again, but for one, wonderful week, it became apparent that someone was putting the ripe and ready to eat avocados into the discount shelf at 6pm on the day they went out of date. As ripe and ready to eat avocados rarely are, I grabbed them thinking they'd be good - and most of them were. Bizarrely, though, one pack of two consisted of one gorgeously soft avocado - and one so hard it could have been made of rubber.

I'd planned to make this guacamole recipe, one from the hairy bikers that I picked because it didn't contain cream or mayo or anything else odd - I wanted it to taste super-fresh, not like a dip. But the recipe calls for three avocados. I'd planned to make it with two, reducing things slightly - I used a couple of chillies, rather than four, and just one tomato - which would have been fine. But after the rubber avocado, I found myself with a pile of chopped other ingredients, and just one av. So I shrugged and ended up making it with one.

It worked. The result was light, fresh and zingy. It still had the creaminess of the one super ripe avocado, but in texture it was more like a salsa. As someone who's never been that fussed by most salsas - I'm not the world's biggest tomato fan - it was like a perfect blend of salsa and guacamole.

It tasted so light and fresh I didn't want it with tortilla chips or anything greasy - so instead, we use lettuce leaves. They were perfect - little scoops. And because they were so healthy, I didn't feel in the least bit guilty about polishing off a lot of guacamole in one go!

Knitting: a finished snowdrop shawl

When I was in London in June I saw  Caroline, and could finally hand over her shawl. I've blogged about it before here and here, and actually finished it back in late May, but couldn't block it at the time because the spare room was such a mess I couldn't get the bed open. And also, I didn't want to blog about it before I gave it to her.

But when I eventually tidied up the spare room and did block it before travelling down, I forgot to take pictures. So Caroline very kindly took this one of the finished project for me:

I was really happy with the way it turned out, and the pattern was fun. I probably won't do another with a knitted-on edging, though, because picking up stitches for it was a complete nightmare, and when I got to the point, after several day's work, I wasn't at the point in the pattern repeat I should have been at. I had a choice of losing a great deal of work or... fudging it slightly. I'm afraid I went for the latter! At least with a edging that's knitted with the rest of the shawl you can read your pattern to see if you've gone wrong - that wasn't really possible with this one.

The pattern was Yarn Harlot's Snowdrop Shawl. There's a link to the pattern, and all the other details here. 

I'm now taking a mini rest from knitting, partly because it's summer, partly because I've finished a bunch of things I've promised people, and largely because I got not one, but three Emily Peacock tapestry kits for my birthday and I'm really enjoying making them. But that's a whole different post! However, there's enough beautiful yarn in my drawer, and fab patterns in my queue, to ensure I'll be back knitting again soon.

Nigel Slater's griddled chicken and aubergine stacks

So, as briefly mentioned in a previous post, we've treated ourselves to a George Foreman grill. A teensy-tiny one for our teensy-tiny kitchen, and also because I wasn't entirely sure we'd use it and thought we should at least get a cheap one that wasn't going to be a complete pain to store. I'd used my parents' while house-sitting and found it handy for cooking chicken breasts to go in a salad, and could see a few things we'd use it for, but there's always a risk with kitchen gadgets and I don't have space or money for big mistakes!

It's now in use almost every day. Partly, it's because it's summer, and simple griddled meat and veg are so appealing right now. But it also cooks steak well, quickly, and my homemade burgers in three minutes flat. And bacon for weekend breakfasts with a lot less faff then doing it in the proper grill. 

This recipe is one we've been doing for years. When I  met my husband, he had a large scrapbook of recipes his mother had typed and printed out for him when he left home to go to uni. In the back he'd stuck other recipes - pulled out of newspapers, mostly - that he liked the look of. Since we've been together we've supplemented it with other things pulled out of newspapers, and it's in constant use alongside my recipe file. It's a lot easier, because you can just stick things in, rather than writing them out again. But it's also now getting full.

This recipe has been typed out, but in a different font to all the others, so I think perhaps it's one he copied out himself. It says it's a Nigel Slater, and the version we have certainly reads like him, but I can't find it anywhere online, or in our books, and don't have the scrapbook with me, so the version below is the one I have in my head. 

Anyway, it's delicious and healthy and yummy. Using a griddle plan, as we used to, works well but is a bit of a faff as it takes so long and the kitchen fills up with smoke. But worth it. Using a George Foreman, though, makes it much, much easier.

Ingredients for two people

For the stacks:

Two chicken breasts

An aubergine, cut, ideally, into four slices, but I often end up getting six out of a big supermarket aubergine.

Pesto - about two tbsps.

For the tomato accompaniment

Four to six normal sized tomatoes

A few basil leaves

A shallot, or half a small onion

Olive oil

Grill the chicken breasts for about six minutes a side if you're using a griddle pan, or six minutes in total if you're using a double sided grill. Check they're cooked through, and put them aside to keep them warm.

Then griddle the slices of aubergine, for three minutes a side on the griddle pan, and three minutes in total in the grill - until done and yummy looking. If you're using a teensy-tiny George Foreman and cut six slices rather than four, you'll need to do this in two batches.

Spread one side of each of your aubergine pieces with pesto, and stack, making a sandwich with the chicken breast.

To make the accompaniment, while the chicken is griddling, dice your onion/shallot and soften it in a little olive oil, and dice your tomatoes. Then, while the last slice of aubergine is doing it's thing, warm the tomatoes through in the pan, and tear the basil leaves on top.

We have this with hunks of fresh bread to mop up the juices from the tomatoes. The bread below is the central slice from our home-made breadmaker bread, which why there's a strange dent where the paddle was.

Seared beef, lime, chilli and ginger salad

While we were on holiday in London a few weeks ago we ate at Wagamama's. They don't have a branch in Edinburgh, bizarrely - they have one in Livingston, but even the delicious noodles and discount shopping aren't enough to tempt me through. The Husband had never eaten at Wagamama's before and didn't really understand why I got quite so excited - and insistent - when we happened to be walking past a branch at lunchtime. He did when the food came. Yeah, I know Wagamama's hasn't been exciting or new for oooh... a decade now. But I like it. So shush.

It was a hot day and we decided to go for salad rather than a huge, steaming bowl of ramen. What we went for was the "ginger beef and coriander salad" - they described it as "seared steak with caramelised red onions,
beansprouts, red peppers, cucumber, carrot, mooli, ginger and coriander tossed with mixed leaves and
wagamama house dressing. garnished with sesame seeds." It was lush. 

Fast forward a couple of weeks and we were back in Edinburgh. I'd nipped into Waitrose on my way home from work for a pint of milk and happened to pass by the discount shelf. And then got a lot closer when I saw beef joints there. There was an amazing rib of beef which I was tempted to grab, but in my heart knew that two people would never be able to do it justice. But there was also a rump roasting joint - about a pound of lean aberdeen angus beef for £1.11. I swiped it and put in the freezer for the weekend.

I cut two slabs of steak from it, which we griddled and ate, juicy and rare, on the Saturday night. Mmmm. The meat was incredibly lean - so much so I'd be surprised if it was nice roasted, but it did very well as a steak. 

The next day, we decided to take the leftover bit - about 150g - and try to copy the salad. Not having the menu in front of me, and not remembering every detail, and not feeling like going on a mooli quest on the streets of Morningside, we didn't do it perfectly, but it was very, very good. 

Ingredients (serves two)

Juice of two limes

A red chilli pepper, diced (although it was actually much too hot and the ginger gave plenty of heat so maybe leave this out unless you're a chilli fiend)

A bunch of coriander

Pickled "sushi ginger" (we just got ours in Waitrose). A packet. That's not helpful. Um. Shall we say an ounce/30g?

Light soy sauce

Bag mixed salad (yes, I'm cheating, so sue me)

150g rump steak/sirloin steak/whatever 

I marinaded the steak for a bit (What's a bit? Um, a cup of tea then a Sunday morning shower and get ready... about an hour?) in the juice of a lime, with chopped up chilli and coriander.

I then had a play with my new George Foreman and grilled the steak until it was just slightly rare - probably for about three or four minutes? Cook the steak however you'd normally cook steak, basically. I did it for longer than usual as I get slightly squeamish about very rare meat once cold, unless it's steak tartare. 

Leave it to rest and cool slightly so it doesn't cook your salad.

Then I cut a carrot into matchsticks, cut the ginger into similar-sized slices, and finely chop the coriander.

I mixed the juice of the other lime with a good glug of light soy sauce to make a dressing. You could add toasted sesame oil if you wanted. I didn't. If you're using chilli, I'd combine it with the dressing too.

I divided the salad between two bowls, topped with the carrot, coriander, sliced beef, and then poured over the dressing.

And lo, it was good. Although not quite as good as it would have been if I hadn't put a silly amount of chilli in it.

Luxurious, easy supper: smoked salmon and "caviar" blinis

Sometimes, when it's a "treat" occasion - a Saturday evening just the two of us, a Sunday night when we're fighting off thoughts of Monday morning, any day when we have guests - I want to celebrate by cooking. Spending time in the kitchen, chopping, stirring, tasting, tweaking is as much part of the celebration as eating the meal.

But even though I love cooking and start to miss it when I haven't had a chance for a while, sometimes it's the last thing I want to do. Perhaps I've already made enough pack lunches to last us both for the week. Maybe I'm dog tired - the whole job hunting thing has meant this has happened a lot lately. Maybe I'm just feeling lazy.

Sure, a lot of the time when this happens we'll order a takeaway. But sometimes I want something that tastes "cleaner", without the grease and the complex flavours. And sometimes we just want something a bit more special.

That's when this comes in - blinis, heated gently, topped with a dollop of half fat creme fraiche, half topped with smoked salmon, half topped with lumpfish caviar. Chives snipped on top of the smoked salmon if we have any that are alive, and can be bothered. Generally eaten after splitting a big bag of crisps between us. Often also following a starter of asparagus, or shelled broad beans, or failing nice seasonal vegetables, avocado. 

It's so simple, but the slight crispness of the edge of the blinis, the smooth, sour cream, and the unctuous smoked salmon or salty, fishy caviar are just perfect. It takes minutes to make, and if it wasn't for the large bag of crisps would be somewhere near healthy. And it all costs less than the takeaway would have done - even if it's very far from being the budget option.

C25K progress report - starting over

So, a few weeks ago, I blogged about starting C25K, and about how the first week went. The first week ended up taking us a fortnight, because things like illness and socialising got in the way. We started the second week, did the first workout, found it hard but survived - and then we didn't do any more for a month.

There was a variety of reasons. A holiday was one of them. And the reasons that stopped me blogging for a few weeks were another. But the trainers were still there in the corner of the bedroom - apart from when they came with us on holiday and sat unpacked and unloved for ten days - and we'd never planned to give up.

So after having a week post-holiday to recover from the post-holiday blues, and discovering they took the other blues away with them, we decided to get back to it.

But rather than diving back in to week two, The Husband suggested starting over, and going back to the very first workout. I wasn't overly keen but I knew he was right, and so we hit the pavements.

I'm so glad we did. Because I found it hard, but I didn't walk when I was supposed to run once - I did it all! Properly! All the tips I'd learnt also helped - not running too fast, keeping my head up, setting goals - and it felt amazing when we'd finished. And I know another week at this level will get me a bit fitter, a bit better, and hopefully the step up to next week won't be so bad this time. Which will stop me making excuses not to do it.

The Husband had done a new playlist as well. He'd taken a few tips from the slightly esoteric one I'd pulled together originally, and so we were jogging to (amongst others) Goldfrapp, Marilyn Manson, Led Zeppelin and Kenicke.

My two favourite jogging tracks at the moment are Marilyn Manson's The Beautiful People and Destiny's Child's Survivor. Make of that what you will.

So, back to it. I'm actually really looking forward to the next run, which will be after work today. And I've bought myself some dirt cheap new t-shirts and a hoody of my very own so I don't have to pinch one off The Husband as an incentive. Oh, the endless glamour.

Griddled tuna, wedges, and homemade mayonnaise

 

So I'm back. A holiday did wonders, even one spent house sitting for my parents, and after a week back in sunny Edinburgh (and for once I'm not being sarcastic when I say that), I'm starting to feel like I've got my mojo back. I've been feeling drawn back to the kitchen. Rather than doing the same old favourites every time, I'm experimenting. And I want to share!

This one, though, is a bit of a cheat - hardly an experiment at all, but the first time I've done a number of things at the same time.

I do two types of wedge. These, peeled and parboiled, are closer to chips - but not deep fried and incredibly easy.

I made the mayonnaise (for which see entries past) in the morning. I've got cocky enough with mayo that I made it with all extra virgin olive oil - and the result was amazing, peppery and delicious.

Then, about an hour before we wanted to eat, I put the tuna in the marinade, while The Husband peeled and parboiled the spuds.

We cooked the tuna moments before we wanted to eat, and I dressed the salad.

For the tuna:

A decent sized tuna steak per person

Juice of a lime

Chopped chili

Half a bunch of coriander, chopped.

Lay the tuna out flat in a dish, squeeze over the lime juice, sprinkle on coriander and chili. Turn so everything's covered. Leave for half an hour to an hour, turning when you pass whilst topping up your wine glass/remember. As it marinades, the tuna will change colour and start to look cooked. 

Ten minutes before you want to eat head a griddle pan on a high heat. Then, when it's smoking, cook your tuna for a minute or so each side depending on thickness. You want it seared on the outside, but still slightly jelly-like on the inside. I find a minute plenty. You can tell how cooked it is from watching the side of the tuna steak change colour.  You can also do these on the barbecue.

For the wedges

200g-300g potatoes per person

Lots of olive oil

Preheat your oven to 220C/ 200 for fans. Peel and cut your potatoes into wedges. Parboil for ten minutes. While they boil, put a good lug of olive oil in a roasting tin and put it in the oven to heat up. When the spuds are done, drain, and tip into your hot roasting tin - watch out, the fat will spit a bit. Turn, glug more oil on if they need it, and put in the oven.

They tend to take about 40 min - turn them half way through, and check them at 30 minutes. You want them just going golden brown on the edges.

Packed lunch: baked vegetable frittata

So, I'm not blogging much at the moment. Am I the only one who sometimes finds that when the to-do list gets too long, even if each and every one of the things on it is fun, everything becomes a chore, even the things that are meant to be a hobby? 

I'm tired, I've got a couple of (good) things I really need to think hard about, and one or two less fun things to worry at (a boiler being one of them. Sometimes home ownership sucks). There's uncertainty in the air right now, and that always messes with my head. So I've given myself a week or two off feeling guilty about things, for the sake of preserving my sanity. I'll probably blog a bit - the second I no longer feel obliged I'll want to - but it's not going to be every day again for a wee while. Sorry.

I have a holiday coming up in a week, and suspect that after that, I'll be back blogging more frequently.

However, I do need to share this recipe for baked vegetable frittata with you. I wish I could take credit for it, but it's actually (whisper it) from the Weightwatchers website. But it's yummy. And easy. And filling. And if you care about this sort of thing, it's only two propoints a wedge. Unless you're me and decide that the yummyness would only be improved by a tablespoon of mature cheddar on each slice. In which case it's three.

The thing is, I find frittata... hassly. Frying a selection of veg, then the omlette, it all sticking in the pan and being a pain, and the whole flat smelling eggy. But because for this one you cook the veg, then bung 'em all like a dish like a quiche and wander away while it bakes, it's easy. We've had it for dinner - in which case I'd allow a couple of slices, and serve it with something more substantial than a salad - and the leftovers for lunch. And it was so yummy sliced up cold the next day, the following week I made it and we had it for lunches all week. A wedge of not-fried frittata, baked with the cheese on top, and a nice salad. Yum. Go and make yourself some. It's lush.

C25k week one: ugly shoes and a radish-red face

So, I've finished week one of couch to five k.

After getting through the door, and for about an hour afterwards, my face was this colour:

Radishes. Picture courtesy of La Grande Farmer's Market on Flickr

The trainers are still ugly. When combined with iphones in special arm holster things and funny water bottles you can hold while you're running, bleach and paint-stained jogging bottoms and a hoody nicked off the husband, the look gets even better. And when you add a face that's the colour of a radish - and I'm not exaggerating, that's exactly the shade I go - the overall effect is not glamorous.

In terms of actual progress with the program - well, I'm getting there. You may have noticed that it's taken me more like two weeks to complete week one. That's partly because of a schedule that made a missed workout in the first week inevitable, and partly because I was ill on Monday of this week and for a couple of days walking to the bus wasn't going to happen, let alone attempting to run.

The very first time we did the workout, it was just so much harder than I was expecting. After all, I wasn't strictly on the couch - I was fitter than I had been for a while after a couple of months of working out obsessively (for me) on the Wii - and getting properly sweaty and horrible, not just fannying around. But I ran the first minute much too fast - not fast at all, but not slow enough. After that I'd knackered myself so much that I could only run for 40 seconds of the next minute. And the next, and so on. I ran for the full minute twice, and for forty seconds six times.

And you know what? I was still incredibly proud of myself. I didn't stop - either ran, or walked, but never stopped.

The second time was easier - I walked the last part of the third minute, and the final minute - I got a stitch.

Going out again this week, a week after I'd last run? Actually easier than I was expecting - I gave up during the third minute, and when confronted with  a steep unpaved slope in the last minute, but also suddenly realised that I was stopping for purely psychological reasons, and that I could actually have kept going.

We realised that the gaps, and the fact I still wasn't running the full distance, meant we'd have to repeat at least some of the week, and so re-did the last session for our last session.

This was the hardest one at all. We were running in warmer weather, at a different time of day, into strong winds. For whatever reason, both the husband and I found it harder than usual.

BUT I DID IT. There were a couple of seconds where I stopped running and walked for a second or two - once when I dropped my ipod, once because I didn't have my iphone with me to see I only had five seconds left and force myself on - mine was in the shop so the husband was using his app and telling me when to run and walk. But I'm still happy with that. Happy enough to start trying week two next week. And slightly scared!

But I've learnt a lot this week. First, to run incredibly slowly. As someone who only ran to catch a bus, I didn't really know anything about pacing myself, and although I'd read enough advice saying run slowly, I didn't know what it means. I do now. I run at a pace that feels barely faster than walking, although actually it is.

Secondly, that I can always go further than I think I can, and that it's my brain giving up when I stop, not my legs or lungs. I find it incredibly helpful to glance at how many seconds I have left when I think I'm about to give up, because I can then say "Surely you can do 10 more seconds? Just try" and manage it. I realised I always started walking during the third minute because I think "God, I'm exhausted and I'm not even nearly halfway through yet" and give up, thinking it's all impossible. Now I know this, I can carry on. The minutes after that one I always find easier. I've also started urging myself on to the next street lamp, the next bus stop, after a tip from my boss. "Come on, you can make it to there, that's no distance." Bizarrely, it helps.

Thirdly, that no-one looks twice at a fat girl in bad sportswear with a radish-red face trying to run. Certainly no-one points, or shouts. It sounds ridiculous that I was scared of this - but I was. And they didn't. No-one cares. This is brilliant, and liberating. (I've also thought of what I'd shout back, though, just in case.)

And finally, although I've always worked out best on my own, doing it for no-one but me, I'm really enjoying doing this with the husband. Although he annoyingly finds it far easier than me - even though he was less fit than me to start with, he weighs so much less and is so much taller, he has a massive advantage over me. I tell myself that he wouldn't do nearly so well carrying a suitcase (roughly the difference in our weights), and that satisfies the competitive part of me. But heading out together, urging each other on, listening to the same playlist so we both laugh when Dolly Parton comes on - it all helps. And it's great that we're making progress together, and when we come back, exhausted, smelly, but so very proud of ourselves - that's a wonderful feeling to share.

So onwards and upwards. For the first time in my life I'm running - even just for a minute - because I want to, not because I have to. And I'm starting to enjoy it. Who knew?

Spicy parmasan crackers

  

It probably won't come as any surprise to anyone who's noticed the masthead that I rather like gin. The blog name comes from my twitter name, which in turn takes inspiration from a Dresden Dolls song, "Coin-operated boy", and was actually my husband's suggestion - the idea being that I come alive once gin is inserted. True, but in an emergency, wine, or even a nice cup of tea, will do.

But if I have a weakness for a nice gin and tonic, I have even more of a weakness for nibbly things to go with it. Although I like chocolate and enjoy cake, they're seldom my downfall. I am able, should I want to, to eat both in moderation.

When it comes to crisps and savoury nibbles, all moderation goes out of the window. These can't be kept in stock - they must be bought, a couple of packets on a Friday to last us the weekend. I've been known to hide packs of crisps bought on special offer in a different room so I don't see them when I'm opening the kitchen cupboards and become tempted. And while I love posh crisps, I love cheesy crispy things even more. You know the ones - the things that cost at least a couple of pounds a packet, where you look at the calories, go "that's not bad", and the realised it's per three nibbles. Who eats three nibbles?

So when I saw this recipe over at Domestic Sluttery, for parmesan and poppy seed crackers, I had to give them a go - especially as there was surprisingly little butter and parmesan in the recipe. (I am in no way suggesting these as a diet food. It's just they could be a lot worse.)

I liked the recipe, but made a couple of changes for the sake of ease - I didn't bother refrigerating the dough for ten minutes before rolling it into shape, as I have cold enough hands that it didn't go all sticky. And because it was slightly stickier than it would otherwise have been, I was able to roll it in the poppyseeds without needing to mess around with an egg glaze.

Because I wanted nibbles, I rolled it much smaller than recommended - roughly an inch in diameter. This meant that when I cut it up, after being good and putting it into the fridge for half an hour, I had hundreds of the things. Well, eighty.

After baking they certainly looked the part. Only thing was - they were VERY spicey, which was odd, since the recipe only described a "gentle warmth". I don't know if my cayenne pepper is particularly strong, but half a teaspoon was a lot, and they were perhaps more hot than was fun (still finished them all, natch). So next time I'll halve the cayenne. But there will be a next time. Possibly this weekend.

Embarrassingly easy: jam swirls

So, last week, after defrosting some pastry for a quiche, I realised I had a little extra.

"Never mind," I thought, "You've got five meals out of that pack of pastry, you can just chuck the rest."

Nope. For the next couple of hours, that pastry played on my mind. I couldn't bear to throw away good food.

I also had an idea - there was a jar of no-added-sugar jam in the fridge, which was bound to go off quite soon.

I combined the two, rolling out the pastry into an oblong, spreading it with jam, and baking the result for 15 minutes.

The result was delicious - light, and slightly chewy from the jam. I'll do it deliberately next time - and perhaps even make an effort to make them a bit prettier!

Makes 20 bite-sized swirls
90g puff patry
50g jam (the no-added-sugar stuff, made with grape juice, works well. I used raspberry)
Um... that's it!

Pre-heat your oven to 180C ish.
Roll out your pastry to an oblong about 10cm by 20cm.
Spread it thinly with the jam.
Carefully roll it up into a long, thin sausage.
Cut it up into 20 slices, and place on a baking tray, lined with baking parchment.
Bake for 15 minutes.
Allow to cool a little - jam gets VERY hot.
Eat. Try not to eat them ALL in one sitting. Maybe get up and make another cup of tea halfway through.

(I've tagged this one vegan as a lot of bought puff pastry is vegan - obviously, check your labels beforehand).

Knitting in progress: the shawl is nearly there!

I'm still working on this shawl (last blog post here).

In fact, I'm hoping to finish it by the end of the week.

It's still going well - I finished the main body without too many problems.

And the edging pattern itself is fairly simple - and one where any mistakes become apparent instantly, so can be fixed.

But before I could start on it I had to pick up and knit over 400 stitches from the edging - a process I hate when it's just 20 stitches, let alone twenty times twenty.

The only way I managed to do it even slightly evenly was by putting in stitch markers at regular intervals - I divided the edge into half again, and again, until I knew roughly 27 stitches had to go between each stitch marker. That made it much easier.

I must have gone wrong somewhere because when I approached the point I wasn't where I should have been in the pattern repeat, but I had enough warning to bodge it and make it work out!

Comfort food: cuppy egg

When I was a little girl, my mother would sometimes - as a great treat - give us cuppy egg for supper, or for lunch when we were off school sick.

It was the most simple thing - egg, chopped with butter and a pinch of salt, served in a tea cup, eaten with a teaspoon, with toast.

I've made it every now and then since, mostly as a quick snack for one - a lunch; a simple but luxurious solitary supper.

But the other day I was feeling brittle. Emotionally and physically tender, for no particular reason. And when it came to lunchtime, and The Husband was suggesting all sorts of special salads, I stuck my bottom lip out and explained I wanted cuppy egg.

It was only when I started cooking it that I realised I'd never served it to him - I've probably made it for myself when getting better from feeling ill once or twice, but never for him. In fact, he was expecting the slightly more sophisticated oeufs en cocotte - for which, a recipe another time, I promise.

But a smile broke out as he realised what he was actually getting, and the result - above - was delicious. I realised we didn't have any teacups, so instead I served it in a couple of mugs, with hot, buttered toast.

So, here you go. For the days when you're feeling a little fragile.

Cuppy Egg

Ingredients (per person)
Two eggs
Knob of butter
Chives (optional, my mum never used them, but they do add something)
Pinch of salt
Bread and butter for toast.

Hard boil your eggs (about 9 minutes, put the toast on about a minute before they're done), and then replace the hot water in the pan with cold, to stop the edge of the yolks going grey.
Working quickly, peel and quarter your eggs, one by one, and drop the pieces into your teacup or small mug.
Add a knob of butter and a pinch of salt.
Using two knives in a scissor movement, chop the eggs and butter up into small pieces in the cup, and mix it all up, until you have something that can easily be eaten with a teaspoon.
Chop the chives over the top if using.
The toast should pop up just about now. Butter it and quarter it, and serve on a plate with the cup or mug of egg, and a teaspoon. The teaspoon is important!

I eat it partly with the spoon, partly scooping the mixture onto the toast.

Now go and curl up somewhere with a good book and a cup of tea. It'll all be better soon.

Five years

Five years ago, one Friday, I had the day off, because I'd worked the Sunday before. I spent the day relaxing at home, and baking an amazing chocolate pudding for a dinner party I was going to the next day.

Just as I was washing up, I got a text message from a friend asking me if I was coming out to the pub. My original plans for that evening had fallen through, and the day before, she suggested I joined her and her colleagues for their after-work drinks.

I wasn't sure if I could be bothered, and texted back to ask if there was any talent.

She replied, "No, but there's good craic. You should come."

So I brushed my hair, changed into a top that didn't have chocolate down the front, slicked on a bit of eyeliner so I looked vaguely awake and spritzed some perfume, and jumped into a taxi across town, hoping for a bit of banter, a couple of drinks and a laugh.


It was a good crowd, and a good night. And as I was chatting to one of my friend's colleagues, I noticed that I rather disagreed with her about the talent. Over the other end of the group, I saw someone rather nice. Tall, dark and handsome. He saw me. One of his eyebrows shot up, and we both went back to our conversations.

I remember thinking, "He's cute. Shame, though, because he's talking to that bloke everybody says is a wanker. He probably is too."

But after a few moments, he came up to me and uttered the immortal opening line: "Are you Irish too?" (The friend was Irish, not the annoying type who thought it was cool to say "craic" five years ago.)

I laughed, said in my very English voice, "You obviously haven't heard me talk yet", and we got talking. Turned out he wasn't a wanker.

We talked for an hour or so, about nothing, about everything. At one stage he disappeared. I remember being surprised, thought he wouldn't have gone without saying goodbye. But when he turned up beside me five minutes later, I got a bit more confident. I later learnt that the five minutes had been spent hiding in the gents, plucking up courage to ask me out.

And when the friend and I decided to leave, he did ask me for my number. His hands were shaking slightly, so I offered to put it into his phone for him. I just managed not to dance out of the pub.

The next day he texted and asked me out. And the day after, we met for a coffee, and stayed out for five hours talking.

Three years later, we got married.

Two years on, I'm still pinching myself.

An easy lunch at home: portabella mushroom and halloumi burgers

Another weekend lunch recipe that's just too easy to be called a recipe.

Portabella mushrooms instead of burgers is hardly a new idea. I first came across the idea in a Nigel Slater book years ago, and now they've made their way onto pretty much every pub menu as a veggie burger alternative.

But I hadn't done one at home for ages, and so on Saturday, we had this for lunch. And on Sunday, too, because the burger buns came in packs of four, we didn't have any room in the freezer, and it was lovely.

Per person:
A portabella mushroom, the size of a burger, or if you can only get smaller ones, enough to fill a burger bun.
A few slices of halloumi
If you have a jar of roasted red peppers around, or a red pepper, worth popping one in
Something with chilli - I used sweet chilli sauce
A scrape of mayo
A burger bun.

Grill the mushrooms and halloumi, turning after a few moments when needed. If you're using fresh peppers, grill alongside, if not, just whack 'em under the grill for the last few seconds to warm up a bit. At some point while they're grilling, put the burger buns under the grill for a few seconds to toast.

Whip out the burger buns, spread with mayo and your chilli sauce of choice.

When everything is done, assemble into an amazing stack of burger-like goodness and DEVOUR.

I was so keen to eat my burger that I didn't check if the picture I'd taken was sharp. I've done my best in photoshop, but sorry, it's still not great! I served it with green salad with a squeeze of lime juice on top - if it had been supper, not lunch, I would have added wedges alongside.

Saturday night's recipe: Ching's won tons

A few weeks ago I bought myself Ching's Chinese Food in Minutes with some birthday money. I'd tried one or two of the recipes before, round at a friend's for dinner, and they were so delicious - and, she insisted, easy - I'd wanted the book since.

So far, I'm really enjoying it. I've cooked a couple of things from it, and keep going back to it for more. I've given it to my Dad for his birthday, alongside a big box of ingredients he'd need to go to a Chinese supermarket to get, ordered from the web. When I bought his box, I decided to buy myself one too, so now I have everything I need.

And on Saturday night, we decided to try her won ton recipe. I love won tons and dim sum -they're my favourite part of a Chinese takeaway, and I was really excited about trying them at home.

The recipe is here and I found it very easy. The only ingredient you couldn't pick up at any supermarket were the won ton wrappers themselves - all the rest you'll be able to get at your local supermarket.

The hardest part was chopping everything up small - we used pork escalopes because we didn't want a whole pound of mince. I should have used the food processor much earlier in the process than I did.

Making the won tons up was fun - you can see the results below. Mine are on the chopping board, The Husband's on the plate. His are more beautiful, but took longer!

Boiling them up was quick and fun - we waited until they rose to the surface, a sign they were cooked, although I found they stuck a bit to the pan and some needed a nudge with a spoon.

And here's the end result! We only made the soy, cider and sesame sauce, not the chilli one, for simplicity and to limit the amount of oil involved. In fact, I think this was a mistake, as without the chilli the dumpling filling was just a tiny bit bland - could have done with the ooomph. But it still tasted and looked great.

We decided to make the full quantity for two people as a main (we'd had some fruit and veg at other points in the day, I promise), but our pack had 30 wrappers, and the recipe catered for 36 won tons, so the remainder I fried off and fed to the cat. He rather liked it!

I was amazed at how relatively easy they were to make, and will make them again. I'd even consider making them as a dinner party starter, as almost all the work can be done in advance, and the final boiling is so quick and easy.

The ugly shoes of hope

On Friday, I did something I never thought I'd do.

With the Husband, walking back home from lunch (I had another half day, after a 14 hour day a few days before) I stopped off at a running shop. A specialist shop that has always scared me slightly. I walked up to a member of staff and told her that, although I'd never really run before, I was going to do a couch to five k and needed a pair of trainers that would stop me getting injured. She didn't laugh at me. Instead, she carefully measured my feet, brought up a few pairs of trainers, and got me to try them on. I then ran on a treadmill (me!) while she filmed how I ran and picked the best pair for me. I bought them.*

On the next door treadmill, the Husband was doing the same.

Our trainers are now sitting, in their boxes, in the corner of the bedroom.

This is the fourth pair of trainers I have owned in my adult (ish) life. The first, bought for fifth and sixth form PE lessons that were bunked off as often as possible, lasted me a good eight years. After all, I hardly wore them, until I hit a gym phase at 24.

Then I bought myself a new pair. They were chosen as much for being the cheapest and least ugly in the shop, and the fact that they were technically a size too big never bothered me. They did me a few months of the gym, before I met the Husband and found more fun things to do in the evening.

My third pair were bought by a friend for walking in. She found them uncomfortable, and said if they fitted me I could keep them. I kept them for a year or two, although as they're still pretty uncomfortable I tend to work out barefoot at home.

This pair are different. Although they are the third most expensive pair of shoes I own and I resent how ugly they are, at that price, they are comfortable. And I chose to get them. And I'm determined to use them, to start the couch to five k, and possibly even to wear these trainers out, in time.

Now I'm not one of life's runners - when I told my mum about these trainers she was speechless. But I think I can do this. And for the first time in my life, I really, really want to try. I know it'll be hard, and that it'll take time - probably more time than the nine weeks of the programme. But I'm excited, and hopeful. And that ugly pair of shoes in the corner of the bedroom has come to symbolise that excitement and hope.

Tonight, I'm planning to put them on.




*If anyone in Edinburgh wants to do the same, I really, really recommend Footworks in Bruntsfield. They were so helpful, and spent so much time on us!

Making Jansson's temptation even more tempting

Earlier in the year I made Jansson's Temptation - an incredibly simple dish using onion, potatoes, a little cream and anchovies to make something amazing.

Last night, I revisited it, thanks to a serendipitous combination of leftovers in the fridge. Cream, leftover from a dinner party pudding, and chilli anchovies from a salad (and chilli not plain because they were all Waitrose had) joined the onions and potatoes we always keep in.

Using chilli anchovies, rather than normal, really improved the recipe. It's lovely as it is - a sweet yet savoury comfort food - but when you add chilli, the spikes of heat add a different dimension.

The recipe I based it on was the same as last time - a Waitrose one that can be found here. But as their website has been annoying for the past couple of days, and they've changed the link recently so the link that was in my previous blog post didn't work (now fixed), I'll type it out here, with "my" method - how I actually did it (or got the husband to do half of it) in the real world!
It's incredibly simple, and serves 2.

500g potatoes
50g tin of anchovies in oil - try chilli. (it's fine if you've pinched a few anchovies for something else!)
4tbsp double cream
One onion (large, ideally)

Pre heat your oven to 200C.

Peel and slice your onion. Pour the oil from the anchovy tin into a frying pan over a medium heat and fry the onions in it until soft - say five minutes.

Meanwhile peel the potatoes and cut into matchstick sizes. Or do what I do, declare life too short and use a grater or the grater attachement on your food processor. The texture won't be quite as good if you do this, but you won't have just cut 500g of potatoes into matchsticks, so, you know, swings and roundabouts.

When the onions are soft, add the potatoes and fry till soft, stirring every now and then so bits don't burn - this takes 10 or so minutes.

Meanwhile, finely chop your anchovies.

Take it all off the heat, stir through the cream and anchovies, add pepper (but you'll probably find it salty enough) and put it in a gratin dish or similar.

Bung in the oven for half an hour while you have a g&t.

It's ready when the top is brown and almost caramalised - a slightly chewing, sticky top over the gooey loveliness underneath.

I haven't taken a photograph, because frankly the end result doesn't look very good, especially if you only decide to blog it after having the first mouthful. But it tastes lovely!

Mayo success!

The first weekend after we'd got our new, bright and light kitchen to rights, I tried mayonnaise again, following the disasters outlined in this post.

I used my mixer again. And a one pint pudding basin bought at a fab new kitchen shop that's opened near my in-laws' house, which was indeed much easier than a bigger or smaller bowl.

And I also took Pikz' advice (thank you!) in the comments to that blog and added dijon mustard to the yolks at the start. Because I was going to be using half of any successful result for a lemon mayo, I substituted lemon juice for her suggested red wine vinegar.

When I asked my mother-in-law for any tips on mayonnaise, she said she'd only made it once or twice, but dug out her Jane Grigson recipe book.

This recipe included three different methods for fixing curdled mayo, from the extra egg yolk, to mustard if you're out of eggs, to a bit of hot water.

It also included quantities for both large and medium eggs - I always use medium - and suggested 150ml olive oil to 2 medium or one large. And a tsp of Dijon mustard as well as a tsp of lemon juice or wine vinegar.

I substituted half the olive oil for ground nut oil and used this first - no point using the expensive stuff till it looks likely to work.

The second I started whisking the eggs, mustard and vinegar together in the smaller bowl I knew it was likely to work. It gave a much larger quantity which could absorb the oil more easily - and wasn't spread out too much, as it is in a bigger bowl.

I added the oil very slowly indeed - drops moved on to small globs, but I never built up the courage or the coordination for a slow trickle.

But it worked! And took less than five minutes.

I let down just over half of the mayo (4 tbsps) with the juice of two lemons to make a sauce for roast bacon-wrapped rosemary hake and asparagus, which I made on Saturday night for dinner guests.

The remainder (about 3 tbsps) I used on Sunday to accompany poached chicken, boiled spring greens and butternut squash wedges. I chopped a small bunch of chives and two tbsps of capers and stirred it through. And then, after it was all served up, I licked the spoon. It was just too good not to!

Kitchen!

So, finally, pictures of the kitchen.

The backstory, if you've missed it, was that we were planning on ripping out our kitchen and starting again, but then the husband lost his job and we reconsidered, and decided to spend much less on buying new storage baskets, fixing broken cabinets, getting an electrician in to fix certain lights and replace others, and painting the doors, walls and tiles.

We'd done everything bar the painting in the previous few weeks, so, after watching bits of the royal wedding despite ourselves, we got to it with the rest of the long weekend.

We started with the walls with one coat emulsion in 'vanilla', and then did the tiles with special tile paint which only came in three colours - we went for the blue one. Then the units were painted with white gloss paint desired for the purpose, which we can still smell, a week later. The Husband spray painted all the handles black.

We split the painting work over two days - long drying times between coats for the tile and cabinet paints made this the most practical way of doing it. On top of this, there was probably half a day's work scraping out sealant and cleaning down before, and a similar amount putting the sealant back in and attempting to remove paint from where it had splashed after things had dried.

Then the paint needed a couple of days to harden before it could be exposed to moisture/steam, which meant cooking was severely limited for a couple of days more.

Most of the paint was easy enough to work with - the gloss on the cabinets being particularly satisfying. The tile paint, however, was evil - so thick it was impossible not to leave brush strokes, and yet still prone to dribble. The finish looks great from a distance, but if you're painting tiles, I'd suggest only doing it if you absolutely hate the tiles you have, like we did.
The handles look a bit retro but were in too bad a state to be left as they were, and we didn't want to spend the extra money on new ones.

All in all, I'd say we spent about £450 - £150 on paint and brushes, £180 on the electrician, and the rest on the storage baskets. We'd have spent at least six times that on a new kitchen, and I have to say, I'm pretty pleased with the result.

There's one more exciting part of the kitchen project to come, when a new bin arrives in a couple of weeks. However, that's probably too boring to blog about!

A summer work packed lunch

 

A few weeks ago, I stopped posting weekly soup recipes, because I'd stopped making soup for packed lunches at work.

But what have I been eating in the meantime? Now, I'll admit that, having spent more days not working in April than working, thanks to a magical combination of bank holidays and birthday annual leave, I've not had to be quite as organised as usual. And there have been one or two weeks where I've just nipped out to the Co-op near work or even to Pret if I was feeling flush.

However, most of the time it's been salads, based around beans or grains, with lots of veg, and a little bit of cheese, or tuna, to perk it up.

This is one of my favourites - bulgar wheat salad. Very loosely based on tabbouleh. Even more so at the moment, when my new parsley plant is looking too fragile to plunder and I'm not putting any in!

These quantities serve 4, or two people for two days. I'll admit that if we're having something like this I'll boil double quantities of wheat on Sunday, get it cold as quickly as possible, save half, and make up four portions. To me, the veg is ok when chopped for up to two days, the bulgar wheat for four, which is why I do it that way. But follow your nose and your own standards when it comes to how long you think food lasts for!

150g bulgar wheat

Stock cube/powder

Four tomatoes

Half a cucumber

Half an onion diced very finely, or four spring onions, or a large bunch of chives

Juice and zest of a lemon

Tsp mustard

20 or so black olives, pitted and halved

100g of cheese - feta, goats, or halloumi you cook while the wheat is boiling are all lovely (I know this quantity might sound mean, but actually, it's plenty)

Cook the bulgar wheat as per packet instructions, only substituting water with stock made up with the cube or powder.

Cool it down as quickly as you can - I find spooning it out in thin layers in the flattish Tupperware I use for packed lunches helps this.

While it's cooling, dice your veg and divide them, the olives and the lemon zest evenly between the four containers. 

Finely dice or crumble your cheese, and split it evenly between the containers.

In a jam jar or similar, combine lemon juice and mustard. Put the lid on and shake, or mix in a more sedate fashion with a spoon.

Split this between the containers, and use a fork to mix up the ingredients and fluff up the bulgar wheat. 

I keep mine in the fridge at home, and on my desk once I get to work, and have never yet given myself food poisoning!

A simple, special lunchtime salad

I can hardly call this one a recipe - it's more an idea, based on happening to have some rather lovely food in the fridge.

After the asparagus shopping spree I mentioned yesterday, I still had a couple of bunches in the fridge on Bank Holiday Monday.

And so when lunchtime came, I decided to use them in a warm salad at lunchtime. I also had parma ham left from wrapping salmon fillets a few days before. When the Husband went out to the shops for a breakfast baguette, I asked him to pick up goats' cheese as well, and with that, the contents of the fridge, and some leftover baguette, a lunch was born.

Asparagus and hot goats' cheese salad
Ingredients (for two for a main meal)
Bunch or two of asparagus
One head little gem lettuce, or whatever nice lettuce you have lurking in your fridge
Quarter of baguette, split lengthways
100g goats' cheese
4 ish slices of parma ham if you have it in or particularly fancy it, and eat the stuff (very optional!)
Wedge of lemon each

Boil a kettle and warm the grill while you prep the asparagus and spread the goats' cheese on the baguette pieces.
Cook the asparagus however you like to - I put it in boiling water in a covered pan for five minutes off the heat.
Pop your posh cheese on toast under the grill and keep an eye on it as it can turn quickly - I tend to find it takes about five minutes to go melty and slightly brown and lovely.
Wash your lettuce, tear into bite size chunks and put on the bottom of the plate.
Add your drained asparagus when ready, and your goats' cheese on toast and parma ham, if using.
Put a wedge of lemon on the side of the plate and serve!
I don't think this needs a dressing - the cheese and ham are rich enough without the extra oil - so I squeeze lemon juice over instead.

Asparagus and summertime

Asparagus always heralds summer for me, and in the few short weeks where British asparagus is in the shops - delicious, and cheap, for so short a time - I eat it by the bucketload - starters, in salads, as a side vegetable.

I had my first asparagus of the year at my in-laws' at Easter - my mother-in-law grows her own in the back garden, and they served it lightly grilled, with a squeeze of lime. Delicious.

But it was only when I saw it for sale in my local supermarket, and put several bunches in my basket, that it did me my annual favour and reminded me that the time had come to buy my Dad's birthday present. When we were kids, my Mum would always cook him asparagus for the starter of his birthday meal - consumed after my little brother and I had been chased up to bed. I remember hanging over the banisters, as Robert Palmer or Sade played on the hifi, wondering what was going on.

The problem with my most recent shopping basket full of asparagus was that I bought it just after we'd finished painting the kitchen. Having spent 48 hours cooped up in a windowless room with paint fumes, I had no intention of ruining it by making the room all steamy before it was properly dried - but I didn't want to grill the asparagus either, I wanted the clean, fresh taste at first.

I seriously contemplated trying to boil it in the kettle, which had been relocated in the spare room. But instead I settled for putting it in a pan, covering it in boiling water, putting the lid on and leaving it for five minutes. The result was lovely - cooked, but fresh and still with a slight crunch.

I served it very simply - as a starter, with a squeeze of lemon on top, and sprinkling of salt. Delicious.

As for the kitchen? It's done, and we're back in now - I'll post pictures next week when I've got it tidy again! But the weekend covered in paint meant I didn't get time to schedule any blogs in advance - sorry for the silence.

Mayonnaise failings

I first attempted to make mayonnaise just six months ago.

I’d always been told just how impossibly difficult it was, but I had a recipe –a Nigel Slater recipe – my trusty balloon whisk, and rather too much confidence.

And it worked. Two egg yolks and a quantity of oil were transformed into a miraculous, wobbly, delicious substance. I added chopped capers and fresh herbs, and dolloped the results over poached chicken – warm that first day, and then delicious leftovers the following two days.

The next time I made it, it was in a holiday cottage in the middle of nowhere. Our next-door neighbour had given us two fresh lobsters he’d caught himself, in return for a lift into town to buy a packet of fags which looked remarkably like a quarter bottle of whisky.

We had the lobsters – which he’d cooked – cold, with potato wedges cooked in a hot oven with olive oil. But I decided we wanted sauce.

With the absolute confidence of the beginner, I once again separated eggs, whisking the yolks with olive oil slowly and carefully. This time, without a recipe or even a measuring jug, I produced a perfect wobbly substance that made our lobster and chips dinner absolutely the food of kings.

I’d begun to think I’d cracked mayonnaise, that, as with anything else in cooking, it just takes care and patience but isn’t particularly difficult.

But I’ve now entered a run of failures longer than my run of successes, and I’m losing hope.

Three times now, I’ve cracked egg yolks into a bowl and whisked them, either with a pinch of mustard powder or of salt, depending on whether I was relying on Delia or Nigel to show me the way.

Three times, it’s started well, but then turned into a curdled mess – a strange almost suspension of eggy blobs in oil. Nigel tells me this always happens at the beginning – well, it’s been happening to me at the end. Delia tells me it just won’t happen if I’m adding the oil slowly enough. Harrumph. I’m not sure I could go much slower.

I tried again last week, using the yolks from the meringues and my new hand mixer. I had great hope that the mixer would fix it and miraculously end my run of mayonnaise disasters.

It just went wrong quicker.

Now, both Nigel and Delia breezily assure you that, should your mayonnaise go wrong, it’s simply a question of getting another egg yolk and starting from scratch with that, mixing your failure in very slowly.

For my first two failures I didn’t have a spare egg yolk. But last week, I tried this. Twice. Which probably tells you just how well it worked.

I have some theories as to what I’m doing wrong. I think that I may be adding the oil too fast – not at the beginning, but in the middle, when I start to get cocky.

I think that my bowls might be the wrong size – using a big mixing bowl for two egg yolks means that at first the yolks are so spread up the sides of the bowl it’s impossible to mix things evenly. But I tried the only other size of bowl I have and that was disastrous – so small I had olive oil everywhere.

But I suspect the main problem is that (and this may also be an excuse) our kitchen is just very dark. More and more of our lights are going and I’ve been cooking from one overhead light and the light from the cooker hood. Being an internal kitchen, that’s not enough, and I’ve not quite been able to see what I’m doing. I think this has meant I’ve not been able to tell when my egg mixture is still a little bit greasy and could do with more whisking, and have been adding the oil in too quickly, causing it to curdle.

We have an electrician coming next week – not, I hasten to add, purely so I can make perfect mayonnaise, but as part of the kitchen revamp, and also because I suspect some of our failed lights are less than safe.*

When he’s been, and we’ve finished the revamp, I may try mayonnaise again – in a medium sized bowl, adding the oil slowly all the way through.

But first, a heartfelt plea – if you are a mayonnaise expert, or know a mayonnaise expert, please could you tell me your secret, or, if you don’t know what your secret is, just how you go about doing it? I want to know what I’m going wrong! There’s something infinitely frustrating about having made perfect mayonnaise exactly twice.

*My husband tells me the electrician looks like Puck from Glee. Unfortunately, with the Husband unemployed, I can’t get away with claiming it’s my turn to stay home. Which is almost as much of a waste as the amount of failed mayo I’ve been chucking in the bin.

Recipe: Low fat and luscious strawberry pavlova

When Caroline from Second Hand Shopper told me she and her Dapper Chap were coming to town this weekend, I knew we just had to have them over for dinner.

It was a fantastic evening – as sore heads and the number of empty wine bottles lined up the next morning testified – and lovely to see Caroline after much too long and meet the lovely Dapper. (Who is indeed Dapper. I identified it was them in the taxi outside because I could see the perfect amount of shirt cuff appearing from a jacket sleeve.)

Because it was quite a short notice thing, and I’d been working all day, The Husband and I decided to keep the catering simple.

He cooked one of his signature dishes - a Nigel Slater recipe involving chicken thighs, herbs, white wine, slow frying and much licking of plates. It’s one of our favourites and I was embarrassed to discover we’d served it to Caroline last time she came to stay – enough to tempt me to start keeping an old-fashioned guest book! However, she was kind enough to insist that she’d loved it then, and certainly cleaned her plate!

But for all my insistence on simplicity, I had a new hand mixer to play with. Time to attempt meringues!

Everything needed to be made between me getting home from work at some time after half five, and guest arriving at half seven, so I went for a quick meringue recipe that gave a soft result, rather than drying everything out slowly in the oven overnight, which I’m planning to attempt last time. This meant the meringue did crack when transferred to the serving plate – but who cares, when it’s got stuff piled on top to hide it? It also that it was quite soft – lovely in the context, but I’m going to play at getting harder meringues.

I discovered using yoghurt rather than cream in pavlovas a few weeks ago, after going on Weightwatchers. I was expecting it to be a bit of a compromise – better than no pudding, but not as good as cream. I was wrong – I love the way the sharpness of the yoghurt contrasts with the sweet meringue and fruit.  I love this Total stuff because it’s so creamy and thick, despite being 0% fat. And also, yoghurt doesn’t need whipping – a major bonus if you don’t have a hand mixer, or you’re just washing-up averse!

Serves 4

Two egg whites

110g/4oz caster sugar (I used golden, for a pretty colour and a slightly more complex taste)

Two punnets strawberries or other soft fruit.

Quarter teaspoon cream of tartar (you can omit – it helps the egg whites puff up, though, so is handy)

Extra tbsp for macerating strawberries

One 150g pot Total 0% fat yoghurt

Turn the oven on to 140C (less if fan)

Line a baking tray with baking parchment.

In a large, scrupulously clean bowl (if it’s even slightly greasy it makes it harder to get the eggs to fluff up) whisk the egg whites until they form stiff peaks when you take the whisk out of the bowl. If you have a hand mixer this takes seconds. If you’re doing it by hand, it will happen eventually.

Arrange on the baking tray in a large circle. (I say arrange. I splodged it and then smoothed it out).

Bake for 45-60 minutes till the outside is crisp, and then leave the oven, turned off with the door open, for half an hour. This can be done ahead.

While the meringue is in the oven, or an hour or two before serving, whichever is later, core and halve the strawberries, sprinkle with a the extra sugar, and leave in a bowl to macerate.

Just before serving, place the meringue CAREFULLY on a serving plate, add yoghurt on top, and then arrange strawberries.