Category: COOKING

Rare moments in my kitchen … so rare, I must share them with you

Hot Cross Buns with lashings of butter?

Kate Frances March 18, 2018

Happy Sunday everyone. I know its not yet Easter and that means we can do this all again next Sunday, oh and the next. I prefer to slice mine into three layers so there is more room for butter. I know that’s bad for my arteries.

When did Easter Sunday last fall on April Fools Day? eeeek – can’t help feeling uneasy about that. I’m not particularly religious I admit, but I’d rather put my faith into the Big Man in the sky (which is how I see him having grown up with those Good News Bibles) than a random old wives tale which has become a commercial vehicle.

What is it about butter oozing onto your tongue while the crispy edge of the bun finds the space between your teeth, followed by an explosion of sweetness from a raisin. Good Lord, I shall be as sick of these by the time Easter comes just as I am sick of mince pies by the time December rolls round. Why do shops tempt us all so far in advance? Am I meant to have bought these and frozen them until the ‘correct’ day? Sod that (excuse my language Lord). I’m eating them. Now.

I hereby invite you to join me on a roadtrip BACK from Vilamoura, Portugal

Kate Frances March 1, 2018

Do you mind if I make a cauliflower cheese while we chat about the itinery and list of clothing you’ll need to pack?

Assuming the airports have sorted the backlog of flights this snow will have caused, we fly out of the UK next Wednesday – I’ll save you a seat although cannot promise a window.

This trip is not a holiday as such, although my dear friend has told me I’ll need to pack shorts and T-shirts (can you picture wearing those right now?? 😃)

I’m so hungry but look! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the smaller lasagne I froze from last week – result!! 💃🏼

Cauliflower cheese should not be served with this, of that I’m fairly certain. But this football size innocent vegetable needs cooking so cheese overload we shall have today… (don’t start a sentence with ‘but’ I’ve told you before).

My friend has asked if I might accompany her on a flight to Portugal and destination Vilamoura (which is the southern edge of the country), where her 16 year old son is presently show jumping some wonderfully bred horses alongside and under the watchful eye of his UK-based but Portuguese trainer. Exciting times! (This is the same family to whose home we drove to Kent last month with that sticky toffee pudding).

The idea is we arrive and watch him for a couple of days; I’m taking my laptop so am hoping for lots of time to type and the sunshine will help me picture Lucy in Tuscany 👌🏼

When the final jumping weekend is over… we load up the lorry (in which we will be staying by the way) and drive home. That’s through to Spain and through to France and through the channel tunnel!!!!

I fancy chopped spring onions in the cheese sauce.

She asked me to bring my driving licence so we could share the driving. We have scheduled stops en route for the horses (we continue to sleep in the lorry). I am simultaneously excited and nervous, but I am a 21st century citizen and a modern woman who wants to explore the world. What better way to cover this european corner?

I ADORE being out of my comfort zone and trying new things. Luckily I have driven in Spain many times over the past three years, but a big lorry on the outskirts of Paris could well be something else.

Having drained the cauliflower (and I like to keep much of the greenery too) I am pouring over the thickened cheese and onion sauce before popping it back in to crisp up…

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

like this…

You HAVE to come. Iinsist. 🥂

wordprompt

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/21st-century-citizen/”>21st Century Citizen</a>

If you are vegetarian, look away now …

Kate Frances February 15, 2018

I’ve got about twenty horse rugs to go and repair, wrap and ultimately deliver to eager clients whose horses are not naked, but wearing their ‘spares’. The pressure I feel upon my shoulders I have placed there myself, as there are approx 180 in the queue behind these twenty, waiting to be washed, proofed and dried before they join the to repair pile.

Before I rush off to the workshop on the farm here, approximately eighteen steps from my backdoor, I thought we’d make some chicken liver and bacon pa-tey. I guessed you’d not want to be left out because if you’re anything like me, you’ve probably got to this point in the day and not eaten enough. (I haven’t got time to go You-Tubing how to create the cute french accents on this keyboard for pa-tay, so lets do phonetics – what works for Year 1s and 2s in the education system should be good enough for us, right?).

I spotted packets of fresh chicken livers yesterday in Tescos while en-route to the dairy aisle, negotiating other shoppers’ trolleys. We had only gone in for five items but came out with a whole trolleyful; why does that happen? He had control of the trolley and whooshed off to find his gluten-free biscuits in a series of inertia-fuelled journeys, while I made a mental note to return to the veg area having forgotten garlic. Becoming side-tracked is one of my for-tays. Cream, check. Bacon, check. Livers, check. Onion, at home. oooh, look crisps (you don’t need those, but you want them because you’re hungry). Garlic, check. Nothing wrong with my memory I concluded as I juggled armfuls of ingredients, which did not contain crisps, along the middle wide area, searching left and right down each aisle and hoping he wasn’t at one of the ends at the wrong moment, or we’d be there all night. Ah! Spotted him with his head in the freezer cabinet buying three boxes of Vienetta; ‘The Boy likes this and we don’t wanna run out.’ I digress (you don’t say!).

The recipe calls for port ideally, but there is none in the cupboard. Hmmm, what to pop in instead … let’s try this; just a glug. Adds depth of flavour while the specific taste is fizzled out amongst the chopped onions and livers as they gently fry away. What is it about preparing food that is so immersive and relaxing? I simply don’t do it enough. Pants. Forgot the herbs (why don’t you have an area in your garden for herbs? Have you seen my garden? There’s more chance of the mole apocolypse taking place than me ever growing herbs).

Bacon is now crisp enough (for my liking) and lets add it to the mix … no-one will know if I crunch this piece and let the salt tingle at my tastebuds and my molars can crunch on that rind there.

Bacon then added, then cream. How much? Oh, I don’t know; how about the lot (Well that won’t help the waistline and you already need a new costume – dress – for the dinner dance because of all those extra pounds since last year. Thank you for reminding me).

Okay. Now it’s cool enough to whizz. Smells divine by the way (looks awful – I know but remember the sticky toffee pudding? That didn’t look too good either at one point!) On a serious note, if you enjoy looking at well thought-out foodie-based photographs, check out this amazing blogger Cooking without Limits!

Three weeks tomorrow I fly to Portugal. With a horsey-friend; long story which will unfold over some future blogs should you choose to stay around. I am very excited; I love travel and exploring new places. It’s fair to say I come alive and I apologise now if my posts become excitable and written in a frenzied fashion; I shall attempt to maintain ladylike poise at all times (*coughs*) … (That was just the last of that bout of flu; bastard thing).

SLEEP

What do you like with your pa-tay? Toast? Biscuits? Crudit-ays? This morning the pots have set and look quite good if I say so myself (I’ve done the self-esteem course!).

I made five pots. Gave one to my mother, who barely registered its existence before delivering all her bad news in a cloud of smoke.

I shall give one to mother in law later who, by contrast, will share all her previous pa-tay cooking stories from her traditional farmer’s wife life.

My husband appears to have consumed the other three and they’ve been prepared less than 24 hours. I’ll take that as a compliment and make more next time. Sorry there’s none left for you – I only got to smell it myself for the record.

Hope your afternoon (or if you’re reading from the other side of the pond; morning) is filled with vibes of achievement, even small ones.

I’ve written a blog and feel warm that I’m talking to you. Now I can relax and work. Mwah..

<a href=”http://Costume” target=”_blank” rel=”noopener”>costume

Sticky Toffee Pudding anyone?

Kate Frances January 25, 2018

As the dish went in the oven, I admit the ingredients could have looked more appetising. But this is the truth of the process; sticky toffee pudding before its glory on the plate, and the gunky sweetness which sticks to the back of your teeth. This photo is the real life part of the fantasy which will be the portion covered with cream, dribbling down across textured contours of sponge and jagged rocks of dates. Real life is the seven selfies you take before the one which is finally chosen for public scrutiny. That one becomes the fantasy. The image of what we ideally want ourselves to be.

In fact I had to bring it out again, because I forgot the components of the sticky bit. Dark muscovado sugar, unsalted butter and some boiling water … all sprinkled, dabbed and poured over the top before cooking commences. (That looks even worse).

Quality dates… most of which come from Iran apparently… create the dark rich taste of Nigella’s version here. I love Nigella’s approach to cooking; simplicity itself leaving time to enjoy the company of friends and family. And perhaps time to lick ones fingers on the stairs in a dressing gown… pants, the toffee sauce is so sticky, the spoon is stuck…

Today we are seeing friends in another county. I met her through ponies: my daughter had outgrown one and my friend (now of 10 years standing) had a son who needed a pony of that size. I say ‘need’ .. of course we parents never truly needed a pony, but once you start on the process of matching equine steeds to your offspring and safety being your top priority, you will travel far and wide for the ‘right’ animal. So as my husband drives and talks and I nod occasionally to show a little willing, but cheekily write this simultaneously, we have crossed the Thames and the border and entered the Garden of England.

I have made a new online friend this morning and her blog looks really cool, and this blogger also wants to be writing not procrastinating. Bingo. A writing buddy, like a running buddy can keep you on your fingertips. So we have agreed on a 1000 word goal

together. Let’s see if we make it ok?

I’m putting this phone down now before I go blind … have a great day folks!

🌸

Gorgonzola, grapes and honey. No pickle thank you.

Kate Frances January 23, 2018

I had to. I’ve been dreaming about this mix ever since I sat in that café on the cobbled street watching passers by exploring Milan in the shadow of that gothic holy place exactly a week ago.

I had to attempt to recreate THAT luncheon I so enjoyed. Do you remember it?

I really needed it to look as similar in presentation today as I recalled it being last week, so when husband suggested pickle on the side of the plate, I quickly remembered the counselling and replied “You can; but I’d rather have it without, so the honey taste can shine through 🙃”

(Because any ‘nagging’ or ‘bossing’ by a wife is hardly equality is it).

Looking good so far, although I know the Gorgonzola is not the creamy creation we, Ortensia and I, discussed)

Now … how to create those petals of pear that the chef produced 😬

Knife worked better than peeler (Mike2all; are you here? Told you I would show you).

Husband insisted in consuming cheese biscuits with it and I bit my tongue and proceeded to daintily eat mixed mouthfuls of this nectar which surprisingly did not need anything else, so filling were the amalgamation of cheeses in one’s stomach.

Now satisfied; eating a whole family bag of M&Ms, watching The Grand Tour and deciding that photo blogs are not for me ….

Hey! At least I stopped worrying about the pony book after typing an email to someone who knows far more than I (I know narthing).

Lemon&Sugar?

Kate Frances January 21, 2018

Or maple syrup? Or perhaps blueberries and whipped cream?

Naughty but nice. We don’t wait til Shrove Tuesday to eat pancakes; I make them all year round, once a week at least. My 6’3″ son eats them as fast as I can make them!

My personal favourite is thin and crispy around the edges, lemon drizzled over for a tongue tantaliser and some sprinkled fine sugar as the nurturing treat. Three or four of these and I’m good to go for the day.

I want to write .. I managed nearly 2000 words yesterday on my WIP. I need a title, maybe you can help? (Careful this an opp for your first synopsis – don’t FK it up)…

A mysterious old lady has left the contents of her will to Lucy, a distant relative who she met only two weeks before. Those contents amount to an Italian vineyard in need of serious update, the manager needing a sense of humour transplant (keep it serious).. The chance to travel has been evading Lucy for years so the need to visit the vineyard and meet the workers and assess its future is the perfect reason to explore outside her present boundaries.

(Hmmm I’ll give you 40% for that effort. I know but we’ve got to leave soon and I wanted to get it out. You KNOW you should never rush work, how many times have I told you? I know, I know, but the RIGHT time never presents itself when there are no distractions so sometimes you just have to go for it.)

Anyway, I’ve researched the Tuscany area and this vineyard will be out of the main area, and way behind the times…

Would you like an extract occasionally … like a tantalising tang or a sugary nurture moment? I’d love you to share Maud’s story (she was the old lady btw).

Titles can come right at the end. I just need to keep writing the story. Today however, is my son’s 18th birthday treat and he doesn’t know where we need to be for the 2pm show start.

Let’s just remind you I love cars. He does too – it’s he and I that watch those Top Gear episodes back to back… my husband loves cars too but he’d rather be chain sawing logs in the woods. He doesn’t really, if he’s being 100% honest, enjoy leaving the homestead!

Catch you later 🚙🚓🏎😉

Nigella Jaws ‘n thoughts …

Kate Frances January 5, 2018

Come here, quick, before I eat it all.

I’m so excited that people are starting to talk to me about my writing. Seriously; they are. Ten days ago I had 24 followers and someone must have left the door open because another 83 appeared to have wondered in, and sat down😱.

Chat to me while I make this lunch (you need to keep your fuel intake topped up when you blog, or your brain cells go to mush) shall we have tomatoes on top?

Oh John, oh John. I was so keen for his dream to continue. The naughty side of me wanted to see what he would do, although it appeared he was perhaps not the one in control … (if you have no idea what I’m talking about, take a peak here)

Where’s the damn kettle. Tea? Coffee? Erm… white chocolate mocha please.

Well that worked ok (usually I burn it because I get sidetrack).

GET – hate that word. I shall endeavour from this point forward, for better or worse, never to use it again!

May l just eat this spare bit? We should share it with John – he likes to eat after a workout.

When I write a story; short, novella or novel…. I usually get to a point where the initial momentum has run its course and then the real hard pedalling needs to happen. I think I’m there with this one.

I could take it in many different directions, covering a variety of morals and life lessons, reaching out to a number of different genres. The exciting part is thinking about which path may lead to the most worthwhile conclusion.

I don’t enjoy reading a book or watching a film with a weak ending. Let me think of one …. while I chop some cucumber (apparently some people are allergic to cucumber can you believe it?)

That’s harder than I thought (finding a film; not chopping cucumber). My point is I like a big finish, like in ‘Jaws’ . When I’ve been waiting with the characters, feeling their anguish and pain, hopes and dreams, I want it (need it) to work. Translate ‘it’ for whatever the meaty part of the story is.

In Steven Spielberg’s classic thriller (in what was actually his second film – the first being ‘Duel’ starring Dennis Weaver) I was willing the three of them to find and kill the shark yes, but the moral or storyline was about belief; when the big shots ignored the problem, the proving of those big shots wrong was really important to me.

Good over evil where the shark wasn’t the evil thing. That makes me sound vengeful and I promise I’m not. I’d sooner walk away from conflict than attack it back (unless my kids were at stake; then dare not you unleash the black witch of hell fury 😂)

Jeeez that was tasty. You wanted a bite? Sorry, you didn’t shout loud enough. Here’s a plate for my son. He’s 17 and is presently re-fitting the interior of his land rover with sound-proofing!

Nigella would be proud…..

via Daily Prompt: Allergic