a bank holiday weekend feast

What a weekend, ay?  The sun was shining; there was science, lolz, wedding prep (not mine, my sister's - gonna be totes emoshe), pubs, parks and food.

After a glorious day of looking at wedding venues and listening to love-filled playlists in the sun, I returned home to find no "normal" food to make for dinner.  There weren't even any frozen peas (or if there were, the freezer had once again won the battle in temperature control and claimed them for its own by wedging them firmly to its wall with a thick layer of frost) nor even a mushroom to be had.  I was also out of gravy. And vinegar.

But all was not lost...

As I left yesterday's sun-kissed picnic on primrose hill I, being the only one with a bag, decided to avail myself of the left over food.

The picnic mainly consisted of crisps and scotch eggs but there were a few interesting flourishes, such as a fruity Moroccan couscous, a jar of very reasonably priced cornichons and three tubs of tzatziki... what kind of people bring three tubs of tzatziki? It's perverse.


Obviously I made use of the crisps, any self-respecting woman with a grab bag of walkers sensations would do the same.

Bank Holiday Cous Cous Salad

1. Eat a chocolate and caramel magnum.

2. Open cous cous

3. Put it in a bowl.

4. Open cornichons.

5. Put them in a bowl, sticking up like little curly phalli.

6. Put a blob of tzatziki on side of bowl.

7. Stand the fallen cornichons up again.

8. Put a blob of houmous on the side.

9. Remember you've got half a grab bag of walkers sensations in your bag.

10. Have one.

11. Put crisps on side of the plate, thus making crisps "dinner"

and not an unhealthy snack,

12. eat.

A life without bread is no life at all

It’s noon on a muggy June day and I’m struggling.  I have been in this lonely place for almost 16 hours.

It’s hard now for me to understand why I’m doing this.  If I’m honest I’ve lost sight of my original reasonings, it seems like insanity, but I know that that’s the hunger talking. 

I woke this morning with the taste of cheese toasties on my lips.  It was, of course, a mirage, a cruel trick that my subconscious played.  It appears that even I'm against me.

You probably can’t begin to fathom making the decision to lose bread from your diet but following an excessive consumption of the carb-orific white stuff I was spent.

WHAT THE--?  Oh, I thought I saw a bear but it was just my hair.  I'm weak and I'm delirious.  It's not safe here.

With the onset of summer it’s only going to get harder – burgers, picnics, BBQs – it all seems so pointless without a finger roll or a seeded bap.

When I started this I had no idea of the danger I was putting myself in, perhaps I was naïve, perhaps I  was stupid but until you’re in it there’s no way of anticipating the terror that comes with it

My ordeal is likely to leave me malnourished, exhausted and possibly frostbitten. 

I’m wandering alone through the wilderness and I’m lost, my sports socks are showing above my heeled ankle boots.

I didn’t want you to see me like this.

Perhaps this harrowing ordeal is a testament to bravery and survival, perhaps it’s just vain whimsy but with only a bag of crisps and a 1.5 litre bottle of evian I’m determined to make it through this.  It’s not going to be an easy ride and I may waiver in my determination but I’ll do this.  I’ll do it for you.

I done gone and twotted

I have a twitter account.

Tis thus... @NotNigellaL or twitter.com/NotNigellaL

I thought the name was quite clever and (@notnigellalawson had already been taken so...) but actually it sort of looks like a foreign word or like gobbledegook.

So far I have zero followers,  I'm a voice in the dark.

First follower gets a ham sandwich.

A Child's Dinner Party Meal. For One. Adult.

On the tube on the way home today a pregnant lady took an entire french stick from her rucksack and ate it.  All of it. No butter, no condiments.  Just an entire loaf of bread.  They can get away with anything can't they? "Can I have your seat?  I'm pregnant?"  Can I use your toilet?  I'm pregnant." "Can I eat an entire loaf of bread in one sitting?  I'm pregnant." You do whatever you need to do pregnant lady.

Anyway, tonight's meal is partially in honour of said pregnant lady and mostly is in honour of the fact that I can't cook.

It is a meal for a child.  For an adult.

My lovely little nieces eat anything, they're already so much more sophisticated than me.  Orla loves olives, Freya loves frankfurters (I don't think she does I just went with an alliteration thing after I said Orla and Olive, Orla really does love olives though, it wasn't all for show) but their meals tend to be quite basic.  Like mine. But this is because they're 1 and 3, not because they're "lazy, retarded and inept". Like me.

So tonight, inspired by lady with a bump and bread,  I bought myself some generic, no brand (warbuton's) "sandwich thins" -- they're a really nice level of bread, you're definitely eating bread but it doesn't overtake the filling which has been known to happen. Some well good cheese - extra mature, obvs. And some soup.

The super sleuths amongst you will have deduced that I had: A CHEESE SANDWICH WITH SOUP.

Mmmmm, basic meals are just the best.  The plainer the better, unless we're talking picnic and then it's a very lavish affair.

Although I did have some coleslaw already in the fridge (FYI I don't normally have stuff "in the fridge", this was left over from a lavish picnic that I had) and as an ode to the pregnant lady added some brown sauce.  They love all of that weird stuff don't they?  "Can I dip my gherkin in your ribena? I'm pregnant."

A Child's Dinner Party Meal. For One. Adult.  Or Ode to Pregnant Tube Lady

What you will Need

Generic sandwich thins (made by warburton's) - they're already cut in half, couldn't be easier.

Strong cheddar cheese

Coleslaw

Brown sauce

Soup - i had a tomato and lentil - fancy.

Recipe

1. hmm, not sure what I did first.

2. possibly put soup in a pan, yeah I think put soup in a pan.

3. open generic sandwich thin.

4. cut cheese

5. eat cheese

6. cut more cheese

7. put cheese on sandwich thin

8. should probably stir soup a bit, it's sticking to the bottom of the pan

 9. get coleslaw out of fridge

10. put coleslaw on sandwich

11. put brown sauce on sandwich

12. put soup in bowl.

13. put lid of sandwich thin on top of sandwich

14. eat over laptop.

Oh I forgot to mention, the brown sauce was out of date.  But only by a month.  That's probably fine, right?  I'm not sure who the brown sauce belongs to.  Possibly someone who moved out sometime ago. Probably the pyscho.  She was a laugh.

A Proper 'Council' Meal

Generic fish finger brand,
don't you worry readers,
I'm no corporate sell out.

Do you remember when people used to use 'a bit council' as way of describing something cheap or rubbish? As an adjective it's disrespectful and snobby and elitist.  I, for one, shall not be using that word  again and will just describe tonight's dinner as a bit trampy instead.

Please see recipe for
comment

I had an awful realisation the other day that I'm getting a bit bored of peas... Luckily for all you pea lovers out there, they taste exactly the same whether you cook them for 2 or 12 minutes - an invaluable tool in the kitchen of an anti-chef like myself (FYI  I googled chef antonyms to check that there wasn't a better word and yahoo answers gave me "inept", "retarded" and "lazy"- cheers yahoo, no wonder google is infinitely more successful than you).  I'm getting side tracked but suffice it to say, tonight's meal contains peas...

...Peas and cabbage and fish fingers.

Don't worry I totally got more
after the shock of last week.

I feel the need to point out that the reason I eat a lot of vegetables isn't because I'm very healthy or that I'm on a diet (although, since you bring it up,  I have put on half a stone in the last three weeks - I'd actually rather not talk about it, but thanks for reminding me, anyway it's only because alcohol contains a lot of empty calories so I could totally lose it in, like, no time if I even wanted to which I don't, even).

I'm not - on a diet - just yesterday I had a nandos,  although, weirdly,  I've had a stomach ache for over 24 hours now (AGAIN,  I really don't want to talk about it.  You're being a real bitch tonight, do you know that?)

So, peas and cabbage and fish fingers, mmmm.  That's actually quite a normal meal isn't?  The sort of thing that someone who could cook but couldn't be bothered to put the effort in might make, right?

Microwavable cabbage!  Who knew?  It's a revelation.  You barely have to do anything to it, just put it in the microwave, this could become a staple.

This even looks disgusting
to me and I swear I have, like,
2 tastebuds in my entire mouth

A Proper Council Trampy Meal

What you will need

Fish Fingers

Microwavable Cabbage

Peas (obvs)

Gravy (obvs)

Vinegar (obvs)

Recipe

1. Turn on grill (any setting should be fine)

2.  Put fish fingers under it.

3. You have a few mins to kill here (cooking is all about timing), personally I put some washing on but you could flick through a magazine, run the hoover around, watch the news headlines or draw yourself a bubble bath and wack some Kenny G on the stereo ... I don't know who that is.

4. Boil kettle

5. Put water in pan with peas.

6. Cut your two bags of cabbage in half (surely it's against advertising standards or something to have two for two pound stickers on a bag of cabbage but no option to buy them individually?  It's like one separated into two halves for two pound, anyway, I digress)

7. Put your cabbage into the microwave for two minutes.

8. Read instruction on other package, take cabbage out of microwave, pierce holes in packet and place back in for the remaining time.

9. Gravy - water, blah blah

10. Put all on same plate and sprinkle generously with sarsons vinegar.

11. Eat

12. Write a blog about it - optional.  Actually don't, there's nothing creative about a copycat.

And there you have it a meal for peasants, made by a peasant, consisting of peas-ant-cabbage - look,  I made a pun on peas and peasants. Now THAT's creative little miss copy arse.

.

i'm out of vinegar...

The Best Meal I Ever Made... Ruined

Today's meal is something else.  Truly, it's delicious.  So delicious that I'd pretty much already decided it was too nice for the blog,  I didn't want to alienate my readership (oh hi Rick).


This is date fare, the sort of meal that you'd cook a few dates in when you were hoping to impress, seriously impress.  Although possibly if I was hoping to seriously impress I might have bought a garlic baguette too, maybe some rocket and perhaps a vienetta or a couple of magnums for dessert.

I took photographs, just in case.  In case tragedy befell me, which to be honest I was sure it wouldn't.  This was a sure fire hit. Nothing could go wrong. Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.

Unless...

Unless...

Umm, tastes better than
it looks

Unless the chilli and curry powder are in such similar containers that you grab the wrong one, and, knowing that the chilli powder is so old it's sort of stuck into its container, you shake vigorously and unthinkingly into your delectable saucepan meal and realise too late that you've just made a thoroughly revolting and completely inedible pesto curry.

Anyway,  I'm speeding ahead.  I'd decided to make my signature dish with a twist.  This is genuinely the one meal that I think I make well,  I'd make it for the in-laws or if I was having a friend over for dinner who I didn't know very well and couldn't get away with providing two ryvitas to start, a cup a soup main and a twix for dessert.

Dropped a bit so I know
it tasted nice pre curry powder

It's pesto, tuna and gnocchi.  "Gnocchi, huh?  That's posh." I hear you say and you're right it is posh, although you should probably get over it, the whole world is middle class these days.  It's the sort of thing you'd eat out of choice IN A RESTAURANT or if someone else was cooking.


The combo is really very tasty, put a hint of chilli in and you're laughing.  Add some sundried tomatoes and jeez louise this is the best meal you've ever made.  Add curry powder and it tastes weird.  And like curry. And you'll probably have to have peas and gravy instead.

Curried Gnocchi

What you will need:

Gnocchi

Pesto (out of a jar, only idiots would try to make their own, it's a lot like humous in that respect)

Tuna - tin of

Sundried tomatoes (mmm, dreamy)

Curry powder - lots of, a whole tub if you have.  I don't really know anything about curry leaves but at least, like, 4 handfuls of.

Recipe

1. Boil kettle (you should be familiar with this by now)

2. Put gnocchi in saucepan

3. Add boiled water

4. Wait for, like, about, 3 minutes or until gnocchi is floating.

5.  Drain water from gnocchi

6. Put gnocchi back in pan.

7.  Add tuna and a healthy dose of pesto.

8.  Quickly chop up some sun dried tomatoes because you forgot and throw them on top.

9. Stir a bit

10.  Add in absolutely shit loads of curry powder.

11.  Try to scrape out with a spoon but know that it's already too late. You've done it again.

This post could also be called, "how to destroy the only vaguely pleasant thing you've ever made" or "how to make a terrible cook even worse"

A meal without peas or vinegar - now with added vinegar

It has been brought to my attention (by myself - I'm not sure if anyone other than my sister and my friend Rick has ever actually read this blog) that all of my dishes thus far contain peas and vinegar.  Not to diminish the little green gems value because by Golly I love a pea as much as the next man, vinegar definitely even more so - but occasionally I have been known to endure a meal without them.

If you're looking to concoct a tasty late night feast then look no further than my pot noodle con toast y crisps, or for the philistines out there pot noodle with toast and crisps.

This is a simple dish that anyone out there can rustle up if willing but it does take a little time to prepare.

Firstly, you should meet up with a group of people with the intention of having one drink, sure. Start lightly with a pint of lager top (nb. may be substituted for a white wine spritzer) follow it up with another, then another, then another, then a jager bomb, then another, then a tequila (we all know that you're lying if you say that you're "allergic" to tequila to try and get out of drinking it by the way).  And relax.



By this point you should have worked up a healthy appetite, especially if you and your friend Sean selfishly took over the ENTIRE dance floor doing dirty salsa routines and the splits to the point where other people who "just wanted to come out and have a nice night" had to dance in their seats because the big kids wouldn't let them play.  Not that we're big, probably both quite small but you know what I mean. (Oh and by the way, self, just because you say "oh my god,  I must be drunk, I'm doing the splits to show off" doesn't somehow mean that you're not showing off anymore).






And so to the last tube home and dinner.

Pot Noodle con toast y crisps

What you will need

Chicken and mushroom pot noodle

Salt and Vinegar Mccoys - bugger there's vinegar in those

Bread - brown and seeded - you're a lady for Christ's sake

Butter or margarine or whatever

Recipe

1. Take lid off pot noodle

2. Boil kettle

3. Put toast into toaster

4. Open crisps

5. Eat some crisps

6. Pour water to water fill line - this isn't easy to find so just pour some water in to your pot noodle

6. Eat some crisps

7. Take toast out of toaster, realise it isn't cooked put it back for a bit.

8. Take toast out of toaster

9. Spread butter or whatever on to toast

10.  Stir pot noodle with fork.

11. Eat in bed

12.  Drink pot noodle juice

I went back to my Mum's this weekend and while I was there my wondrous niece made me a delicious plastic meal of plastic croissant and plastic "peas".  I think we all know where her culinary prowess is heading.

A Two-Course Feast for One

I feel like I should probably point out that I'm not a complete slob.  In other areas of my life I'm really very grown up; my house has a front and back garden, for example (in London, who even knew that existed?), and we have a cleaner who comes around once a week AND a water filter, so...

Tonight in honour of all things civilised and grown-up I decided to cook myself a 2-course feast.  I hear ya ladies, "but think of all the calories" but I'd been for a run so it's ok.

All day I'd been fantasing about the two Linda McCartney sausages that I had in the freezer (mmm, seasoned cereal and vegetable protein) and what I could have with them.  As I attempted to stay awake on the tube I remembered a supersize bag of tesco petits pois that I'd bought in a rare moment of forward food planning and just knew that the combination would be absolutely delicious.  But it didn't quite seem... enough.

I raided the fridge. Rocket salad?  That could work... but alas, the fridge was on too high and the rocket had frozen.  I had solid leaves (get it? solid leaves, sol-id leaves, salad leaves?  It's not even funny, don't worry about it) so that option was off the table.  Some extra mature cheese?  Perhaps but I wasn't sure it'd go with the vinegar.

I gave up.  I had nothing that would go with my sausage/pea/vinegar feast and I was hungry - Now. Unless..                                              
                                                                             
...unless I had two-courses... that's right a two-course meal for one.  Pleased with my ingenuity in the kitchen I returned to the fridge: a cheese starter, followed by a sausage and pea medley, what a treat.

A Two-Course Feast for One

What you will need:

Cheddar Cheese (it doesn't have to be ticklers mature cheddar but it helps)

Linda McCartney Sausages x 2

Tesco's Petits Pois

Sarson's Malt Vinegar

(Filtered) Water

Recipe

1. Turn grill on (setting irrelevant)

2.  Put sausages under it and turn when you remember.

3. Cut yourself a bit of cheese to eat.

4. Pour water from tap into a water filter.

5. Wait a bit.

6. Pour now filtered water into kettle and boil.

7. Place peas into saucepan.

8. Eat a bit more cheese.

9. Add water to peas and watch for a bit.

10. Eat a bit of cheese, put cheese back in the fridge.

11. Drain water from peas and but peas into a bowl.

12. Take sausages from grill and put sausages on top (doesn't matter if you've burnt them a bit).

13. Get cheese back out of the fridge and have another bit really quickly as if someone might catch you.

14.  Add gravy or brown sauce (optional).

To be honest I've finished that and I'm still a bit hungry.  I might get myself a twix which would obviously make it a 3-course meal.  Watch this space...

Delicious Vegetable Soup

(I definitely didn't make this)

Returning home for a long, hard day at the office, much like Mother Hubbard, I discovered that my cupboards were bare.  And while this is in no way unusual (well-stocked for me means bread AND milk) it did leave me in the predicament of what feast to conjure up for my dinner.

Usually I'd take a trip down to the local 7-11 (I think this might be an American thing but it's always open when I go to work and open when I get the last tube; but closed when I venture into night bus territory so...) and get myself a dreamy tinned feast, Stagg Vegetarian Chilli is my current fave.  But alas, it's the day before payday and my purse is as empty as my cupboard.

(this isn't the mix I used,  I just liked the word melange)

In a flash I recalled a bag of frozen mixed veg that I once bought at 3 o'clock in the morning but never quite got around to eating. Hurrah!  Even for me this constitutes a bland meal so I decided to have a rummage around in my ex-flatmate's cupboards (the pyscho was unceremoniously slung out a couple of month's ago) and discovered some gravy, yesss.  As you may recall from my previous post, frozen veg and gravy constitutes fine dining in my household.  But lo' the gravy is out of date... by 2 years.  Thinking on my feet I spotted a couple of oxo cubes, could it be... the packet shows a simple recipe for vegetable soup = SUCCESS.

Delicious Vegetable Soup

What you will need:

Mixed frozen vegetables

2 vegetable oxo cubes

Recipe:

1. Boil kettle

2. Pour water into a saucepan

3. Put frozen veg in saucepan

4. Tip some of the water out because you used too much

5. Crumble one oxo cube into saucepan

6. Wash hands

7. Crumble up other oxo cube into saucepan

8. Watch for a bit

9.  Put into a bowl

10.  Eat quickly (it tastes of nothing but you don't notice as much when it's really hot)

And voila! A feast fit for a dog.