It took me from 7 am this morning til 10:30 to get to work. How depressing. The bus would not stop in Bruntsfield for about 3 hours, just sped on past – there were 3 other folk waiting as well, though we were sat in the juice bar in front of the stop…all came running out when we saw the bus approaching and just looked so demoralised when yet another bus went by without stopping. MEAN, MEAN BUS DRIVERS!!! Though it was probably comedy gold from the POV of the girl working behind the counter at the juice bar.
Edinburgh is strangely unprepared for snow. As my street is a dead end, no one has shovelled – my boyfriend spent the past two days scraping our steps and the steps of the next door neighbours (the family we actually like), but other than our 3 sets of steps the others seem remarkably undisturbed. Maybe they have retreated underground and have decided to join the mole people? I’m not sure, but there is about 2 feet of snow on top of most of the cars.
Tuesday 30 November 2010
Random thoughts
1. I saw baby Uggs the other day, so very cute but I wasn’t sure whether they said “practical and cosy in winter” or “I also carry my dog around in a handbag”. Mind you, our puppy has a pair of hiking boots, so I’m probably not the right person to judge.
2. My boyfriend was offered a chocolate lab/collie cross pup and so “Princess” (our cat) has been living in fear ever since. Ever since she heard the words “new puppy” she’s been throwing things into a suitcase (her spare fat suit, a travel sized bag of cat treats, a bandana) and stomping around the flat in a huff.
3. Boyfriend tried to take the puppy for a walk yesterday but Baby Boy decided to do his business about 3 inches from our front step…don’t think he fancied his chances in the Links, the snow on our front step came up past his belly.
4. “Princess” went outside and slid down our neighbour’s tin shed room (heh, cat on a cold tin roof) – came back more white and very unimpressed. Maybe more unimpressed as I was stood at the window taking photos. Is that considered animal cruelty?
5. The boyfriend was thinking up ways to retrieve her – the most sensible suggestion was asking the neighbours to let us into their garden, but the one we should have gone for was a large spoon attached to a long poking device made of disposable chopsticks. Used ones of course, as we are trying to be environmentally friendly. I suggested we poke her with the pointy end to get her attention, and then retract the poking device quickly into the flat and try to scoop her up with the spoon end. Could you imagine her happy little face when she realised she was getting prodded in the side with a dirty chopstick?
2. My boyfriend was offered a chocolate lab/collie cross pup and so “Princess” (our cat) has been living in fear ever since. Ever since she heard the words “new puppy” she’s been throwing things into a suitcase (her spare fat suit, a travel sized bag of cat treats, a bandana) and stomping around the flat in a huff.
3. Boyfriend tried to take the puppy for a walk yesterday but Baby Boy decided to do his business about 3 inches from our front step…don’t think he fancied his chances in the Links, the snow on our front step came up past his belly.
4. “Princess” went outside and slid down our neighbour’s tin shed room (heh, cat on a cold tin roof) – came back more white and very unimpressed. Maybe more unimpressed as I was stood at the window taking photos. Is that considered animal cruelty?
5. The boyfriend was thinking up ways to retrieve her – the most sensible suggestion was asking the neighbours to let us into their garden, but the one we should have gone for was a large spoon attached to a long poking device made of disposable chopsticks. Used ones of course, as we are trying to be environmentally friendly. I suggested we poke her with the pointy end to get her attention, and then retract the poking device quickly into the flat and try to scoop her up with the spoon end. Could you imagine her happy little face when she realised she was getting prodded in the side with a dirty chopstick?
Saturday 27 November 2010
Super healthy spinach and kale soup
In keeping with the soup theme, I made this tonight with a couple bags of greenery I found lurking in the fridge that has maybe seen better days. Perfect for soup thoough, and I love a green soup. May make this again for St Patrick's Day next year. Plus both me and the boy have been feeling a bit run down, so the huge amounts of garlic should hopefully help.
Spinach and kale soup
400g organic spinach (Phantassie)
200g organic kale (Phantassie)
3 medium onions, chopped (W Christie butchers)
8 cloves garlic, chopped (W Christie butchers)
2 tbsp rapeseed oil
2 tsp wild garlic pesto (Sacla)
2 Knorr vegetable stock pots
½ tsp black mustard seeds
A pinch of nutmeg
750 ml boiling water
Heat oil in a large pot. Sautee onions for a few minutes until translucent, then add the garlic – do not cook the garlic for very long, as it has a tendency to burn. Add the black mustard seeds to the onions and garlic to toast them slightly.
Now add the spinach (you could break it up or chop it if you like, but I was terribly lazy and just threw it all in at once. Ah well, it gets blended anyway so it shouldn’t matter). Add the kale as well – you will probably need to break it up a bit as it is hardier than the spinach.
Add the water and the stock; you could use fresh vegetable stock if you like but I had a few stock pots to hand so just used them. Cook the soup down until the spinach and kale are wilted. Season with some sea salt; add a small pinch of nutmeg, maybe some freshly ground black pepper.
Using a handheld blender, puree up the soup – the blender we have is amazing and we don’t even need to take the pot off the hob. I don’t like my soups totally smooth so I’ll usually stop just short of totally blended – I like a bit of texture!
To serve you could spoon in some crème fraiche, but this is super tasty and very healthy as it is. I think this may go some way to counteract the week of takeaways we’ve just had, bad me!
Spinach and kale soup
400g organic spinach (Phantassie)
200g organic kale (Phantassie)
3 medium onions, chopped (W Christie butchers)
8 cloves garlic, chopped (W Christie butchers)
2 tbsp rapeseed oil
2 tsp wild garlic pesto (Sacla)
2 Knorr vegetable stock pots
½ tsp black mustard seeds
A pinch of nutmeg
750 ml boiling water
Heat oil in a large pot. Sautee onions for a few minutes until translucent, then add the garlic – do not cook the garlic for very long, as it has a tendency to burn. Add the black mustard seeds to the onions and garlic to toast them slightly.
Now add the spinach (you could break it up or chop it if you like, but I was terribly lazy and just threw it all in at once. Ah well, it gets blended anyway so it shouldn’t matter). Add the kale as well – you will probably need to break it up a bit as it is hardier than the spinach.
Add the water and the stock; you could use fresh vegetable stock if you like but I had a few stock pots to hand so just used them. Cook the soup down until the spinach and kale are wilted. Season with some sea salt; add a small pinch of nutmeg, maybe some freshly ground black pepper.
Using a handheld blender, puree up the soup – the blender we have is amazing and we don’t even need to take the pot off the hob. I don’t like my soups totally smooth so I’ll usually stop just short of totally blended – I like a bit of texture!
To serve you could spoon in some crème fraiche, but this is super tasty and very healthy as it is. I think this may go some way to counteract the week of takeaways we’ve just had, bad me!
Wednesday 24 November 2010
Ice cream
I remember this stuff from my childhood. My parents used to buy that 3-tiered ice cream for me from the supermarket, and I used to call it Napoleon ice cream. Took me until I was in junior high before I realised it was “Neapolitan”.
Freeze drying it was a stroke of genius, as my mum hates mess and there are few things messier than a child with rapidly melting ice cream on a hot July in Toronto. You had me at freeze-dried.
That and my phonetic pronunciation of Garfield’s lasagne and my inability to differentiate between pheasants and peasants as a child. Endearing, non?
Monday 22 November 2010
Oxtail soup
Tis the time of year for soup. I’m not usually a huge soup person, especially during the summer months; I’m more a solid food kind of girl, with the emphasis on chewing. Makes me feel like I’ve worked for it – pureed food just seems too easy.
I get lazy in winter, and I think it’s a fabulous time of year to get cosy under a thick tartan blanket on an armchair of epic proportions, with the lights down low and a good film on the telly. There’s really nothing better to get me in that snuggly frame of mind than a nice bowl of steaming hot soup and some crusty bread. My favourite at the moment is Falko’s spelt and honey (dinkelbrot mit honig), which is amaaazing. It may be the best bread I have ever tasted, and I buy it every weekend at the farmers market. And as far as the soup element is concerned, nothing beats homemade.
My lovely boy made a version of oxtail soup over the weekend; it is gorgeous, but quite different from any other oxtail soup, I promise!
Hearty oxtail soup
1.5 kg oxtail
1 bottle Madeira wine, medium dry
Flour
500 ml beef stock
3-5 onions, chopped
Carrots, chopped
Romanesco, in florets
Brussels sprouts, halved
20 cherry tomatoes
Dust the oxtail with flour, then brown in some oil (we use Summer Harvest rapeseed oil) in a heavy, lidded casserole dish. Remove the meat and set aside. Add the onions and sauté – you might need to add some more oil at this point. When the onions have softened, return the oxtail to the pot; now is the time to add the whole bottle of Madeira. Cook it all down for about 15-20 minutes before adding the beef stock. Season. Simmer over a very low heat for a very long time; my boyfriend cooked this soup over a period of 5 hours, but you could probably get away with a couple hours.
Meanwhile, in a separate pot of salted water, blanch the vegetables. You can add as many or as few vegetables to this as you like, but we used a couple large carrots, half a huge head of romanesco, and about 10-12 sprouts. Drain.
Once the soup has sat simmering for what seems like forever, and you can no longer remember a time when you did not have soup simmering on the hob, remove the oxtail from the broth.
Set the meat aside and add the drained vegetables to the soup. Toss in the cherry tomatoes as well; there is no need to chop as the soup will cook down further;
simmer the soup with the vegetables and tomatoes for about 20 minutes, mashing the vegetables with a wooden spoon if you prefer soups with a chunkier texture, or puree with a handheld blender if you prefer something a little smoother. I personally like mine with a bit of texture, so only lightly blended it.
Now, you have one of two choices. You could shred the meat and add it to the soup, or you could leave it out altogether. We did half and half; as there is quite a lot of soup yield, we added shredded oxtail to half the batch and left it out of the other batch. It’s wonderful and yummy either way, and I can’t think of a more perfect meal on a freezing cold Edinburgh winter night.
I get lazy in winter, and I think it’s a fabulous time of year to get cosy under a thick tartan blanket on an armchair of epic proportions, with the lights down low and a good film on the telly. There’s really nothing better to get me in that snuggly frame of mind than a nice bowl of steaming hot soup and some crusty bread. My favourite at the moment is Falko’s spelt and honey (dinkelbrot mit honig), which is amaaazing. It may be the best bread I have ever tasted, and I buy it every weekend at the farmers market. And as far as the soup element is concerned, nothing beats homemade.
My lovely boy made a version of oxtail soup over the weekend; it is gorgeous, but quite different from any other oxtail soup, I promise!
Hearty oxtail soup
1.5 kg oxtail
1 bottle Madeira wine, medium dry
Flour
500 ml beef stock
3-5 onions, chopped
Carrots, chopped
Romanesco, in florets
Brussels sprouts, halved
20 cherry tomatoes
Dust the oxtail with flour, then brown in some oil (we use Summer Harvest rapeseed oil) in a heavy, lidded casserole dish. Remove the meat and set aside. Add the onions and sauté – you might need to add some more oil at this point. When the onions have softened, return the oxtail to the pot; now is the time to add the whole bottle of Madeira. Cook it all down for about 15-20 minutes before adding the beef stock. Season. Simmer over a very low heat for a very long time; my boyfriend cooked this soup over a period of 5 hours, but you could probably get away with a couple hours.
Meanwhile, in a separate pot of salted water, blanch the vegetables. You can add as many or as few vegetables to this as you like, but we used a couple large carrots, half a huge head of romanesco, and about 10-12 sprouts. Drain.
Once the soup has sat simmering for what seems like forever, and you can no longer remember a time when you did not have soup simmering on the hob, remove the oxtail from the broth.
Set the meat aside and add the drained vegetables to the soup. Toss in the cherry tomatoes as well; there is no need to chop as the soup will cook down further;
simmer the soup with the vegetables and tomatoes for about 20 minutes, mashing the vegetables with a wooden spoon if you prefer soups with a chunkier texture, or puree with a handheld blender if you prefer something a little smoother. I personally like mine with a bit of texture, so only lightly blended it.
Now, you have one of two choices. You could shred the meat and add it to the soup, or you could leave it out altogether. We did half and half; as there is quite a lot of soup yield, we added shredded oxtail to half the batch and left it out of the other batch. It’s wonderful and yummy either way, and I can’t think of a more perfect meal on a freezing cold Edinburgh winter night.
Wednesday 17 November 2010
HMV Picturehouse
I wrote an email to the Picturehouse about last night c/o the box office. Here's my email and the one I got in reply...
I've always been a great believer in giving credit where it's due, and I may be mocked for my habit of complimenting builders on their good work, waiters on their good service, folk in shops for being super-helpful. I don't care. It's nice to be nice sometimes!
From: Me
To: HMV Picturehouse c/o the Box Office
Hi
I was at the White Lies gig last night at the Picturehouse; I felt the need to write this email because of an incident that happened once the show had finished.
First of all, I need to compliment the Picturehouse on its amazing Security Staff. One of your guys turned what could have escalated into something ugly into a lovely story my boyfriend and I have been telling our friends.
We had a great time at the gig (we’ve seen White Lies at the Picturehouse a few times), but when we were waiting in the queue for our coats, a guy in the queue behind us tried to start a fight with my boyfriend. Basically I’d gone to join the queue on my own, and my boyfriend came to join me after he’d been to the toilets – he asked the people standing directly in front of and behind me whether they minded, but they all said no. A guy reasonably far behind us started mouthing off about him skipping the queue, despite the fact my boyfriend didn’t even have a ticket – he was just keeping me company. The other guy started to get very hostile and threatening my boyfriend, saying he was going to get him outside.
Now I know usually some drunken yob mouthing off on a night out is something to shrug off and ignore, but we had just found out someone we know had been attacked outside a pub for no apparent reason last week, and he’d died a few days later in his sleep as a result of his injuries. I think needless to say we were a little more cautious than we would have been on any other night.
I spoke to one of the Security on our way out, just to keep us right in case anything did happen. The person we spoke to was incredibly helpful – he walked with us out the door and even escorted us to the traffic lights at the cross roads on Lothian Road so we could get a taxi outside the Sheraton. Once we’d crossed the street, he even stayed on that patch of pavement until he’d seen we were in a cab before he returned inside.
I think being nice is a bit underrated these days, and I would like to thank the Security at the Picturehouse for being fantastic. If anything had kicked off it would have ruined a great night, but your staff made sure that didn’t happen.
Kind regards,
..........
From: Operations manager (Events) - HMV Picturehouse
To: Me
I have been forwarded your e-mail to the Picture House.
It was kind of you to have taken the time to compliment our staff, which doesn't happen very often.
The steward involved will be passed on your thanks, and the incident will be conveyed to the staff at the briefings.
thanks again for taking the time.
kind regards
I've always been a great believer in giving credit where it's due, and I may be mocked for my habit of complimenting builders on their good work, waiters on their good service, folk in shops for being super-helpful. I don't care. It's nice to be nice sometimes!
From: Me
To: HMV Picturehouse c/o the Box Office
Hi
I was at the White Lies gig last night at the Picturehouse; I felt the need to write this email because of an incident that happened once the show had finished.
First of all, I need to compliment the Picturehouse on its amazing Security Staff. One of your guys turned what could have escalated into something ugly into a lovely story my boyfriend and I have been telling our friends.
We had a great time at the gig (we’ve seen White Lies at the Picturehouse a few times), but when we were waiting in the queue for our coats, a guy in the queue behind us tried to start a fight with my boyfriend. Basically I’d gone to join the queue on my own, and my boyfriend came to join me after he’d been to the toilets – he asked the people standing directly in front of and behind me whether they minded, but they all said no. A guy reasonably far behind us started mouthing off about him skipping the queue, despite the fact my boyfriend didn’t even have a ticket – he was just keeping me company. The other guy started to get very hostile and threatening my boyfriend, saying he was going to get him outside.
Now I know usually some drunken yob mouthing off on a night out is something to shrug off and ignore, but we had just found out someone we know had been attacked outside a pub for no apparent reason last week, and he’d died a few days later in his sleep as a result of his injuries. I think needless to say we were a little more cautious than we would have been on any other night.
I spoke to one of the Security on our way out, just to keep us right in case anything did happen. The person we spoke to was incredibly helpful – he walked with us out the door and even escorted us to the traffic lights at the cross roads on Lothian Road so we could get a taxi outside the Sheraton. Once we’d crossed the street, he even stayed on that patch of pavement until he’d seen we were in a cab before he returned inside.
I think being nice is a bit underrated these days, and I would like to thank the Security at the Picturehouse for being fantastic. If anything had kicked off it would have ruined a great night, but your staff made sure that didn’t happen.
Kind regards,
..........
From: Operations manager (Events) - HMV Picturehouse
To: Me
I have been forwarded your e-mail to the Picture House.
It was kind of you to have taken the time to compliment our staff, which doesn't happen very often.
The steward involved will be passed on your thanks, and the incident will be conveyed to the staff at the briefings.
thanks again for taking the time.
kind regards
White Lies gig, HMV Picturehouse
Last night’s White Lies gig was in some ways a fabulous show in my favourite Edinburgh venue. I can’t say enough how great the security staff were – I turned up at the door at 8:30 pm and asked one of the bouncers by the door if there were any tickets left at the box office, on the off chance. It was a free gig, so I wasn’t holding my breath. He said technically no, but asked how many I was after – I said two (one for me and one for the boyfriend), so he looked at the two in his hand someone had just handed over and said “here you go”.
The tix were one for two people, so he wasn’t technically doing anything wrong – but from the experience I’ve had with bouncers in the past, this was above and beyond the ordinary. He was actually nice.
I think nice is underrated. People really should make an effort to at least try it sometimes.
The band were great, as always. The boy and I might be considered “groupies”, as we’ve seen WL every time they’ve played in Scotland (including once at T in the Park). We were the most sober people in the room, sipping pints of water all night and getting mocking looks from the bar staff all night.
I was sent off to the coat room queue so the boy could go to the loo (must have been all that water, I said). I made random chitchat with the guys in front of me, as you do when waiting in a bloody long queue – and can I just point out I was at the very end of the queue at this point, there was no one behind me. A few minutes later, my boy came to join me, and he asked the bloke in front whether he minded if he (my boy) climbed over the barrier – random bloke said no, of course he didn’t mind.
As soon as he’d joined me, some wee guy starts mouthing off about my boy jumping the queue. We tried to explain he was only coming to join me, he didn’t even have a coat checked, but the guy just wouldn’t let it lie. Starts picking a fight, which was stupid as fuck in his case as he was about a foot shorter than my boy and a podgy little rat. Wanted to “take this outside” (take what outside? Even his friends were telling him he was being a dick).
Now on a normal night, we would just shake it off – some little turd mouthing off is nothing really, especially some little turd who even I could take down. But we’d just heard earlier that night a guy we’d partied with on Mull had died – the victim of a totally random attack outside a pub on the island. Apparently some guys set on him and kicked the crap out of him, and he died at home not long after. One of my best friends knew him very well, and I can’t even imagine how she’s going to feel when she finds out.
Scum. Bloody scum.
On our way out the door I grabbed a bouncer – a huge guy with a skinhead and tattoos up and down his arms – and let him know the situation. Not to get the wee guy in trouble or anything, but to keep us right in case something did kick off. The bouncer was great – he walked us down the stairs to the exit, then escorted us to the traffic lights to get a taxi at the rank across the street. Even after we’d crossed, he walked up and down that stretch of pavement until he saw us get into a cab.
I’ve heard all sorts of nasty stories about dodgy security staff, and I’ve had friends at the wrong end of it as well (one down to mistaken identity). This has restored my belief there are some good, decent people in the world.
Like I said, nice is underrated.
The tix were one for two people, so he wasn’t technically doing anything wrong – but from the experience I’ve had with bouncers in the past, this was above and beyond the ordinary. He was actually nice.
I think nice is underrated. People really should make an effort to at least try it sometimes.
The band were great, as always. The boy and I might be considered “groupies”, as we’ve seen WL every time they’ve played in Scotland (including once at T in the Park). We were the most sober people in the room, sipping pints of water all night and getting mocking looks from the bar staff all night.
I was sent off to the coat room queue so the boy could go to the loo (must have been all that water, I said). I made random chitchat with the guys in front of me, as you do when waiting in a bloody long queue – and can I just point out I was at the very end of the queue at this point, there was no one behind me. A few minutes later, my boy came to join me, and he asked the bloke in front whether he minded if he (my boy) climbed over the barrier – random bloke said no, of course he didn’t mind.
As soon as he’d joined me, some wee guy starts mouthing off about my boy jumping the queue. We tried to explain he was only coming to join me, he didn’t even have a coat checked, but the guy just wouldn’t let it lie. Starts picking a fight, which was stupid as fuck in his case as he was about a foot shorter than my boy and a podgy little rat. Wanted to “take this outside” (take what outside? Even his friends were telling him he was being a dick).
Now on a normal night, we would just shake it off – some little turd mouthing off is nothing really, especially some little turd who even I could take down. But we’d just heard earlier that night a guy we’d partied with on Mull had died – the victim of a totally random attack outside a pub on the island. Apparently some guys set on him and kicked the crap out of him, and he died at home not long after. One of my best friends knew him very well, and I can’t even imagine how she’s going to feel when she finds out.
Scum. Bloody scum.
On our way out the door I grabbed a bouncer – a huge guy with a skinhead and tattoos up and down his arms – and let him know the situation. Not to get the wee guy in trouble or anything, but to keep us right in case something did kick off. The bouncer was great – he walked us down the stairs to the exit, then escorted us to the traffic lights to get a taxi at the rank across the street. Even after we’d crossed, he walked up and down that stretch of pavement until he saw us get into a cab.
I’ve heard all sorts of nasty stories about dodgy security staff, and I’ve had friends at the wrong end of it as well (one down to mistaken identity). This has restored my belief there are some good, decent people in the world.
Like I said, nice is underrated.
Tuesday 16 November 2010
One down...
I feel happy about the essay I handed in today. I think I did ok; maybe more words than what the tutor asked for, but I’ve answered all the questions and I’m pretty sure it made sense.
I think we’re off to see White Lies tonight, then it’s study study study for the Biology exam on Thursday.
Only 2 more weeks of classes til Christmas!
I think we’re off to see White Lies tonight, then it’s study study study for the Biology exam on Thursday.
Only 2 more weeks of classes til Christmas!
Monday 15 November 2010
Tatties Bojangles
My boy treated me to a gorgeous roast dinner tonight; roast chicken with tomato gravy and roast potatoes on the side. I'm usually more a fan of the red meats when it comes to roasting, but this was sooo good.
Everything came from the market of course, except the shallots which came from our neighbourhood butcher W. Christie. It's a fantastic family-run shop who know us by name - one of the sons taught us how to make perfect crackling!
This is definitely a rustic style meal, but you can't beat it for proper comfort food. We're not big choppers in our house, so if it can be crushed, mashed or left unpeeled, you can be assured it will be!
Roast chicken with tomato gravy
Medium organic chicken (Hugh Grierson)
Giblets
6 shallots, quartered (W Christie butchers, Bruntsfield)
8-10 vine tomatoes (JM Craig)
Chilli infused rapeseed oil (Summer Harvest)
Sea salt
Green peppercorns, crushed
Preheat oven to 180*C
Rub the bird with sea salt and green peppercorns. Drizzle a roasting pan with the chilli oil, place the bird in the centre and arrange the shallots and tomatoes around it. Place in oven to roast for about 1.5 hours, depending on the size of the bird. Prepare the potatoes and roast alongside the chicken.
Meanwhile simmer the giblets in some water and a pinch of salt.
Remove the bird from the oven and place onto a serving platter and leave covered in a warm place to rest. Whilst the bird is sitting nicely, add a spoonful of plain flour to the juices and whisk well to remove the lumps; then strain the giblet stock directly into the roasting tray. Simmer gently, breaking up the tomatoes with a wooden spoon. Season if needed.
Roasted chilli potatoes with brussels sprouts
500g roasting potatoes, peeled (Phantassie)
10-15 brussels sprouts, scored with an X (Phantassie)
Chilli oil (Summer Harvest)
Dried chilli flakes
Sea salt
Drizzle plenty of chilli oil into a roasting tray and heat in the bottom tier of the oven.
Slice potatoes about 4-5 mm thick. Toss directly into the hot roasting tray and heat quickly on the hob a few minutes until the potato slices are coated. Season with sea salt and chilli flakes. Place in the bottom of the oven with the roasting chicken.
About 30 mins before the chicken is ready, toss in the brussels sprouts and continue to roast until tender. This is the simplest potato recipe I have come across - no parboiling!
We ate this with Phantassie's beetroot relish rather than the more traditional cranberry sauce, and it was lush.
Everything came from the market of course, except the shallots which came from our neighbourhood butcher W. Christie. It's a fantastic family-run shop who know us by name - one of the sons taught us how to make perfect crackling!
This is definitely a rustic style meal, but you can't beat it for proper comfort food. We're not big choppers in our house, so if it can be crushed, mashed or left unpeeled, you can be assured it will be!
Roast chicken with tomato gravy
Medium organic chicken (Hugh Grierson)
Giblets
6 shallots, quartered (W Christie butchers, Bruntsfield)
8-10 vine tomatoes (JM Craig)
Chilli infused rapeseed oil (Summer Harvest)
Sea salt
Green peppercorns, crushed
Preheat oven to 180*C
Rub the bird with sea salt and green peppercorns. Drizzle a roasting pan with the chilli oil, place the bird in the centre and arrange the shallots and tomatoes around it. Place in oven to roast for about 1.5 hours, depending on the size of the bird. Prepare the potatoes and roast alongside the chicken.
Meanwhile simmer the giblets in some water and a pinch of salt.
Remove the bird from the oven and place onto a serving platter and leave covered in a warm place to rest. Whilst the bird is sitting nicely, add a spoonful of plain flour to the juices and whisk well to remove the lumps; then strain the giblet stock directly into the roasting tray. Simmer gently, breaking up the tomatoes with a wooden spoon. Season if needed.
Roasted chilli potatoes with brussels sprouts
500g roasting potatoes, peeled (Phantassie)
10-15 brussels sprouts, scored with an X (Phantassie)
Chilli oil (Summer Harvest)
Dried chilli flakes
Sea salt
Drizzle plenty of chilli oil into a roasting tray and heat in the bottom tier of the oven.
Slice potatoes about 4-5 mm thick. Toss directly into the hot roasting tray and heat quickly on the hob a few minutes until the potato slices are coated. Season with sea salt and chilli flakes. Place in the bottom of the oven with the roasting chicken.
About 30 mins before the chicken is ready, toss in the brussels sprouts and continue to roast until tender. This is the simplest potato recipe I have come across - no parboiling!
We ate this with Phantassie's beetroot relish rather than the more traditional cranberry sauce, and it was lush.
Sometimes...
Do you ever get the feeling you’re missing out on something? When you’re so busy with a million different pies in the air (ah…the mixed metaphor) that Real Life seems to be passing you by?
That’s the feeling I have right now.
We’ve had a class test and two essays in the past 3 weeks – one in genetics, which is a foreign language to me; plus it’s been frantically busy at work as things round up to the last corner before this beast of a project comes to a close. Because I’m only part time now, I’ve been known to stay until past 7:00 some nights. Tomorrow I have another essay to churn out, then it’s a day of rest then another test and another report for the end of the week.
I feel like I should be getting more done, but I’ve also been sacrificing any semblance of a social and personal life.
I took a break from studying at the weekend to spend some time with my oft-neglected boyfriend. We went to the Farmers Market on Saturday to stock up the fridge, then hit the charity shops in the afternoon and finished off at Courtyard Antiques in Causewayside – this time it was old maps we came home with, and a full set of beautiful copper frying pans of varying sizes, which we got for a song.
We cancelled on one of our friends coming round as we were knackered from too much wandering and far too much spending; ended up with folk round anyway, but it was a pretty chilled out evening…with hats.
I bought a velvet sombrero from a charity shop. It’s very…ornate. I also bought an 80s style round wicker coffee table with just enough room in the base to fit a cushion and perhaps the cat, if it pleases her.
Charity shops are amazing, I love them. You can get anything, you just never know when it will appear in your life. Some of my proudest finds have been from charity shops.
Yesterday I locked myself into the bedroom with my laptop and did a good few hours of solid essay writing before we went into town to buy some jammies (for both of us – flannel reindeer for me and a reasonably sedate red plaid for him). Boyfriend was oh-so patient with my shopping compulsion, bless him. When we came home he didn’t nag me to come out with the puppy (I took Baby Boy out on my own in the morning for the first time ever), and I got in a few more hours of productive time.
After class this morning, I had to wolf down my packed lunch and rush off to catch my bus to work.
I would have liked to spend a few minutes chatting with my friends from my course. There are a few people I get along with really well who I don’t see much of outside of class – there was a really sweet girl I got along with who I found out today has dropped out.
Today’s jumper colour: orange
That’s the feeling I have right now.
We’ve had a class test and two essays in the past 3 weeks – one in genetics, which is a foreign language to me; plus it’s been frantically busy at work as things round up to the last corner before this beast of a project comes to a close. Because I’m only part time now, I’ve been known to stay until past 7:00 some nights. Tomorrow I have another essay to churn out, then it’s a day of rest then another test and another report for the end of the week.
I feel like I should be getting more done, but I’ve also been sacrificing any semblance of a social and personal life.
I took a break from studying at the weekend to spend some time with my oft-neglected boyfriend. We went to the Farmers Market on Saturday to stock up the fridge, then hit the charity shops in the afternoon and finished off at Courtyard Antiques in Causewayside – this time it was old maps we came home with, and a full set of beautiful copper frying pans of varying sizes, which we got for a song.
We cancelled on one of our friends coming round as we were knackered from too much wandering and far too much spending; ended up with folk round anyway, but it was a pretty chilled out evening…with hats.
I bought a velvet sombrero from a charity shop. It’s very…ornate. I also bought an 80s style round wicker coffee table with just enough room in the base to fit a cushion and perhaps the cat, if it pleases her.
Charity shops are amazing, I love them. You can get anything, you just never know when it will appear in your life. Some of my proudest finds have been from charity shops.
Yesterday I locked myself into the bedroom with my laptop and did a good few hours of solid essay writing before we went into town to buy some jammies (for both of us – flannel reindeer for me and a reasonably sedate red plaid for him). Boyfriend was oh-so patient with my shopping compulsion, bless him. When we came home he didn’t nag me to come out with the puppy (I took Baby Boy out on my own in the morning for the first time ever), and I got in a few more hours of productive time.
After class this morning, I had to wolf down my packed lunch and rush off to catch my bus to work.
I would have liked to spend a few minutes chatting with my friends from my course. There are a few people I get along with really well who I don’t see much of outside of class – there was a really sweet girl I got along with who I found out today has dropped out.
Today’s jumper colour: orange
Wednesday 3 November 2010
Bad eggs
I was in work by 7:15 this morning, so I thought I'd get myself a nice hot breakfast in the canteen. The food in there is usually ok, nothing to write home about but not too bad as far as canteen fare goes.
Except today. I ordered the eggs benedict sans bacon and was presented with a poached egg on an english muffin...with warm MAYONNAISE.
Bleugh! I even had two bites to make sure, but it was most definitely mayo.
How revolting...
Except today. I ordered the eggs benedict sans bacon and was presented with a poached egg on an english muffin...with warm MAYONNAISE.
Bleugh! I even had two bites to make sure, but it was most definitely mayo.
How revolting...
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