Friday, 29 April 2011

No, Lexie, don't eat that!

Occasionally, to combat the fact that I like to lie in bed of a morning eating entire packets of Lindt Lindor eggs before work, I do a bit of exercise. Probably don't need it- Lindor is so irresistibly smooth that it may just slide off my body. But just incase.

So the other day I cycled home from Rugby station. This took me fifty
minutes of hilly country lanes with one hand hanging wildly off the bike trying to control the satnav on my iphone.
Ooh hope that's not dinner!

Luckily Pailton farm shop was on hand to serve up lashings of chorizo, olives, pie, apple juice, freshly baked bread, cheese, pickles, and obvs a picnic is incomplete without crisps. We ate it by the lake with Lexie on a very tight leash.

Wednesday, 27 April 2011


I'm still a little concussed by the shenanigans at the BBQ last night to lucidly write of its going ons. All I remember is Bob leaving muttering something about human sacrifices being next, and even Chazney when told about it, saying, 'Gone too far? Perhaps.'

What I can remember is a delightful gathering under the bunting in the garden. Chris manfully
stepped up to the Step-Dad role with Alex away and tenderly BBQd us some homemade pork and apple burgers, sausages and salmon. We also had a tomato, cucumber and rocket salade and a potato salad. And the obligatory crisps that disappear way before the mains, and some tear and shares. It didn't get too heated whilst eating. The environmental psychology of the kitch picnic rugs and children playing nearby cooled the whoops and nipple flashing down, so in the end the only worry was the choking game. Still that was fine as Chris was wearing leather gloves so didn't mind when I bit him. The meaty tongs holding open my mouth didn't even hurt that much too.

But with the advent of four vienettas we decided to go inside to warm up before all that minty chilled dessert could get to us.

Then my mind goes as blank as if I had been buried alive in ice cream and I can't remember what happens next. I don't think I even have the words for it. In the video you can hear me wailing in a corner. You'll have to wait for Sashy's photos for the true aftermath.

Lets just say, I did clean up after. I promise.


Blackilocks and the two bears

When I'm telling a fairytale, I like to update it, give it a bit of feminism, a bit less murder, a lot less Amanda Seygfried.. So I was glad to trample all over the brothers Grimm on my way to Rotherhithe for breakfast the other day.

Once upon a time, a very un-streetwise young woman wondered sleepily right out of the East and tumbled into a very nice flat in the Rotherhithe resort, quite unknown territory. And who should the poor quaking flower find there?
Yes, more purr than grr aren't they? They were cooking up a storm for their breakfast but didn't mind little Blackilocks tucking in with them. They gave her some pajamas so she could fit into soft sleepy land and served her up a feast washed down by Le Creuset pots of tea.
They were just her kind of bears!

Tuesday, 12 April 2011

M for Murder, or Mustard

As i was tucking into my carrot and butterbean soup at work the other day, my colleague asked, 'Are you half vegetarian? I've never seen you eating meat'.

I was oddly quite offended. Made me feel not very hard. Of course I like abusing and murdering animals for my olfactory pleasure. And to prove it, on a quiet Tuesday night when I could've been in making lavender bags or quietly demonstrating for PETA, I had a BBQ for Alex, Jess and I.

I made some burgers out of slightly cheap mince, chopped onions, cheese, garlic, herbs. Served with pitta and veg (ssh it was meant to be served with sausages, gammon, chicken thighs and foie gras but my nerve failed). Oh and chips. They're quite rough so I think they upped my cool rating.

Saturday, 9 April 2011

Tea for two

Was meant to go on a first date quite a few weeks ago but I was having such a nice time having tea at Roast's house that I bunkered down in his lap and stayed all day fed only on scones and jam and Rhoddas clotted cream.

No, that's a dream. I did go on the date post elevenses with Roast, but as it wasn't that interesting I'll spin you a new tale as fast as Jess spins soap dishes out of old plastic bags*.

*And lets just say we've got a few..

So Roasty and I baked some fresh scones like we were straight out of an
Enid Blyton book. We ate them all whilst licking the last flakes of dough off each other and
chatting about how cute
we looked with jam in our hair. Roasty then brewed us some Earl Grey to wash it all down. He accidentally spiked mine with sugar which I don't usually like (I'm sweet enough you see) but I was so raspberry jammed up that I couldn't even notice the difference. Then we just fell asleep in a heap like kittens.

What a dream day!


Monday, 4 April 2011

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to

I had the very special treat the other day of meeting Roast's new amour Adam. Hi Adam. Doubt anyone reads this now but I'll pretend. Sob sob. Slit Slit. (My bed is like a village pond around me with all this liquid literary distress. I know just how Virginia felt).

We went to Byron burger for, well, a burger. My favourite bit about it is how it comes with a gherkin on the side. Just like my lunches in New York. Because not everyone likes gherkins I got quite a few at Byron. Not just like New York, as in New York I lunched alone. So I only got my one. Alone. Like me.

Sorry I'm being too me me me when this blog is actually about Chris' burger pain. His juicy burger arrived much later than everyone else had finished theirs. It was tres embarassing for him. And we hated watching him eat. To distract us he put his gherkin in the top of the burger like a candle.

We all got puddings to cheer ourselves up. And to cheer himself up Chris taunted me with a glace cherry for what felt like days...

Saturday, 2 April 2011

OOh i've got a new eyeliner...

and other girl stories.

I'm ever so sensible and into infection control and brown Clarks' lace ups, but when I get with Chazzah and Bobbeh we get quite silly billy.

Anyway, we reunited and shared our new eyeliners (mine's Neal's Yard fyi) and got extremely overexcited about going out. See, look at Bob's face. She can't wait.

That's probably the best bit of this story. Certainly, wasn't when she got forty pounds stolen, or when my vodka pouch got caught by security, or when an 8 year old tried to pull us (no Callum, I'm your teacher), or even when Bob knocked a tray of water onto the bed and we had to sleep in it wrapped up in towels like babies fresh out the bath.

P.s it's not just the camera perspective on the soupy photo. Bob and Chaz made me have a serving bowl full. Well, the joke was on them as I ate it all and enjoyed it probably more than their company.*

*joke. Although as if you even read it now to see.

Friday, 1 April 2011

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens,

bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens..."

NO NO NO Maria. Sssh. Those are not my favourite things. My favourite things are carbs.

"Gravy drops on potatoes, and chocolate on creme cakes. Bright buttery croissants, and warm plates of risotto balls. Big wedges of lasagne tied up with cheeeeese. These are a few of my favourite things!"

Ah yes. I think you'll find only those will soothe the pain of a dog bite (not that Lexie would ever do that to anything else but vulnerable nesting birds), and soak up the tears of my leaving for New York with their absorbent carby textures*.

* p.s yes this is yet another month overdue blog. I'm surprised this blog hasn't gone as past it as the bread I left in the cupboard for two weeks.

Anyway, right before I went away I went for breakfast at Ottolenghi. I had a heavy plate of french toast and my fellow diner El had a whole carb board.

The bread board even comes with its own toaster to the table. And a trough of butter.