Caramel here for a short(cake) time

Am playing a fun game with myself seeing how many of the pack of 12 mini Thorntons caramel shortcakes I can manage to leave to take to Chaz's for dinner tonight. Well fun for me, not them. Three are down so far.. An hour to go. I usually have so little self restraint that the phrase 'Doing a Fran' means acquiring a present of food for someone but accidentally eating it before it gets to them! I'm always terribly sorry.

Later on.. Luckily Chaz is more thoughtful than me and cooked us up this splendid dinner for gurls night. Whoopsy I forgot to capture anything but the bleak remains. You can only imagine how delish it looked. Once upon a time it was chicken fajitas with tomatoes, lettuce, peppers and sour cream.

.

Too full to move we couldn't bear pudding. Chazzy deserved it throwing over her anyway for her naughty behaviour with white linen-ed Pasha!

Mums on Tour.2

I've been on so many holidays this summer I almost forgot to drown you with Cornish food info. They eat (clockwise from top) fish and chips, lashings of chocolate gateau, tent bits and bobs, and cornish pasties and ice cream.

Ignore the apples. Real Cornish and I don't touch them. We were all about the Gold bars.

p.s We found a mermaid

Pinot Yoga

It occurred to me that after eating all this food some of you may need some tips for exercise enjoyment. This is from the sweet lips of our very own Bobbeh.

1) Stretch up!

2) Stretch back.Wink to Daddy (in the tent next to us)

3)Down and take a sip of your wine.

4) Fling your hair up sexily.

5) Repeat with more wine.

In no time at all you should be toned up for Summer!

ST I spy food.

Luckily for me one of the bonuses of mostly staying inside the house is that I'm a lot less likely to go out and hook anything like this:

Oh no, these were dressed Norfolk crabs, not the other type. I did enjoy forking this up.

xxxx

My casa e your quesadilla

Got back from work this afternoon, finished off my mountainous chocolate sundae from the day before and fell into a swoony sleep for two whole hours. Swimming in and out of consciousness I thought I could hear Marky rustling in the kitchen. Dave was due at 7pm and right on time he snuggled into my bed for a last few precious sleepy moments. We were roused by Marky who had indeed whipped us up a treat of spinach quesadillas from the waitrose app. They were absolutely delish. They probably had some more ingredients in them but I can't ask him now as I'm late night blogging in the bath (no internet in my room) and he's watching a noisy action film in his room. I know he baked them in the oven, unlike mine which I do in the frying pan.

A bit later who should turn up but Alex, swiftly followed by Roast. Unfort by the latter's arrival we'd munched up the grub so Mother Fran fixed him a cheese and tomato toasted pitta which he enjoyed immensely.

Luckily he know what he likes and he likes what he knows!

Bake me, I'm yours!

Avoiding boys like I do means I often have to seek elsewhere for comfort. You can imagine therefore how much I relished soaking up this great wedge of homemade lemon sponge with homemade lemon curd. It was a cuddle for the mouth. Certainly got jammed into mine enough whilst I was sleeping (thanks Alex).




Alex had made it for Roast's birthday picnic which we ate at Kew Gardens.
Also attending were 4 boxes of strawberries, double cream, cheese straws, baguettes, dips and crudites, mini Cornish pasties, mini other unidentifiable pastries, Kit Kats, Mr Kiplings and a little salade on the side. I ate as much as I could and never felt right again throughout the day.

Via a market where I ill-advisedly purchased the biggest olive ciabatta ever for dinner we nestled up together on the long train home, transferring ourselves straight into bed from there.

If only I'd stayed like that as my plan of a night on the town was thwarted by a very bad stomach ache from all that food. Bad olive ciabatta! Bad baguette! Bad cheese straws!

Shrimp and save

At home being doleful this evening I was delighted to receive an invite from a fellow food writer for dinner. Well my drink date was being sick so I had a window.

Have you eaten? Oh no, I pitifully replied. Well, apart from that other dinner I had at four. But curry, rice and poppadoms don't really count. I've got to eat lots and often as I don't know where my next meal is coming from. I'm just like Oliver.

Luckily I was scooped up off the streets and right into a bowl of brown shrimp risotto with broad beans and pea shoots. One tub of mascarpone, one tub of shrimps, lots of rice and some wine I nicked from Netto. I've dreamt about tasting a brown shrimp since I cut out a picture of Waitrose potted brown shrimps and stuck it in my scrap book when I was but a scrap myself. It's like all my dreams are coming true at once:

Pudding was a squidgy three chocolate brownie. A Stork tub was being used for storage like we were back at Primary school and Bob was growing up too fast. Erm Miss...

Sleep tight my darlings xxxxxxx