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Showing posts from November, 2015

Popcorn: the guilt-free confession

I blame the salmon. Okay, my freezer door does advise that fish should only be stored for a maximum of six months, and the use-by date on the pack of salmon fillets was 29th December 2014, but that doesn't necessarily mean food stored beyond a best-by date is dangerous to eat. And it looked okay: well wrapped and not doing any iceberg impressions. So, perhaps it wouldn't be at its best ... but how bad could it be? Let's ask the judges. Dry, chewy. A culinary disahster, daahling. Six months over the six months is obviously a few months too many.

And that's how we ended up eating this:



No, I mean that's how we ended up eating ALL of this:



All 350 grams, 14 servings, 1274 calories of it. Although we were watching a movie so I guess there was a certain air of synchronicity.

And there was one other mitigating circumstance: lettuce, which didn't live up to its bright pre-cooked promise. 



Did I use the wrong type? Nigella used Cos or Romaine on 'Simply' the other n…

Apples everywhere

I've been running through them: on Friday morning's off-road run around local orchards with Meopham and Malling Ladies Joggers on a day that forgot it was November, at least for the first couple of hours.
While at home I'm living, breathing, chopping and slicing them. Apple sauce, apple puree, chunky apple pie filling, apple crisps (in the dehydrator), and enough grown-up varieties of apple jelly to get you singing: Golden Whapple (Golden Delicious with whisky), Rumley (yep, Bramleys and rum), Bourpple (you're with me now) and Chapple (with chilli). The Bourpple was more the result of discovering half a bottle of Jim Beam wearing a thick and sticky blanket of dust in the back of a cupboard than any deliberate planning. The Whapple and Chapple are repeats from last year. Rumley is this year's innovation and, as well as Bramleys, also contains the last
of the Russets from the single tree (out of ten thousand) in our orchard. But Russrumley was too long to write nicel…

Remember Remember the 6th of November

After the heat of the bonfire, after the newspaper stuffed guy, with his paper bag head and your dad's old trousers and worn plaid shirt, turned to black flakes. After your dad pinned Catherine Wheels to a post and warned you to keep away from the rockets ready to launch from milk bottles. After the Jumping Jacks and Roman Candles. And after you wrote your name with the brilliant fizz and crackle of sparklers against the night sky and rescued the potatoes wrapped in foil from the fire's warm heart. After the sausages. Even after you tipped towards sleep, the whizzes and bangs a memory and a glitter of lights fading behind your eyes, after you woke-up ...  

Then you began your search for them: in your garden, along the nearby streets, the spent ones still smelling of cordite, the charred cases, the bent sparklers, collecting them like treasure, the proof of everything you had, and didn't have, that had once burned so bright.
Hungry Writing Prompt Write about a light in the dar…