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.