* Celeriac and Potato Mash

This celeriac and potato mash came about because I had rather a large celeriac to use up, that I bought on a whim and I didn't fancy any more soup (I'm souped out. Can you believe it?!?), which is usually the obvious choice for me - when it comes to using up veg - so I thought I'd liven up some mashed potato with it.

I will definitely be doing it again. The celeriac seemed to lighten up the texture of the mash and the flavour too, giving it that almost peppery taste of celery, but somewhat milder.

I wasn't sure if it would go down like a sack of lead cr@p with Neil, because he's a bit of a purist when it comes to his mashed potatoes. He'll eat it with oodles of cheese, but otherwise he tends to regard any alteration to his beloved mash with a bone deep suspicion.

It's incredibly difficult to sit across the table from someone who is eyeing up their mashed potato as if it's going to pull a gun on them.... especially whilst fighting the urge to shout "BANG".

When I presented him with his dinner, he looked at the mash that was swirled through with parsley and said "That doesn't look right... what have you done?" This is usually where I get defensive and start on at him about a variety of past grievances that have absolutely nothing to do with the mashed potato and what I've supposedly done with it. However... all I said was "Eat your dinner." I'd had wine. He then regarded me with suspicion and took a forkful of the mash.... and then another.

When his plate was clear I got the "Lovely darlin'." that I'd been waiting for.

He didn't ask again, what I'd done.. and I didn't tell him.

* Easy Cheesy Bubble and Squeak

I need to make more food with Easy Cheesy in the title. I like that title. I like anything even vaguely childish at the moment because I've got a rotten cold, which seems to go hand in hand with a more juvenile sense of humour.... my dreams are pretty freaky too - in a fun way!!! You are so rude!

I dreamt I had magic, the other night (stop groaning, you knew this is where I was heading), and that I was the most powerful magician/sorcerer in the entire world but I hadn't been challenged and therefore didn't know how powerful I was - then the dream jumped a little bit to me saving a load of people by letting them in my front door (apparently this dream could not afford much in the way of special effects)... then this *being* appeared in the sky - now don't laugh - it was Adam Ant. Moving swiftly on... I yelled out of my half open front door (that I was hiding behind - magicians get scared too apparently) at the Adam Ant cloud in the sky..."You don't want to take me on..." then imbued the last two words with a huge majestic power reminiscent of Charlton Heston in various movies "DOOOO YOOOOU?"....

Thing is.... I BOOMED the last two words out loud. In my sleep. As the Adam Ant cloud dissipated into vapour  - I heard a voice beside me snigger and say "Well I suppose this is going to be as interesting as "I'm a giraffe"...".

*sigh*

I'd woken Neil up.

12 hours later when he walked in the back door after work...

... he was still sniggering.

NOTE: There is no one real recipe for bubble and squeak - it's traditionally made up of left over vegetables from a Sunday Roast, all mashed together and fried in a pan on the stove in butter. Sometimes as a mash up, sometimes as a large cake and sometimes as patties. I find a general rule of thumb to follow is whatever weight of potatoes you use, use half that weight of vegetables (or thereabouts) - also, if you do happen to have creamed the mash together with butter and/or milk - you're best bet is to make a mash up and fry it as is, as the wetter the bubble and squeak mix, the less likely that it will be able to hold its shape and make decent patties (or cakes). Dry frying (no fat) also helps the patties to keep their shape and not take on extra moisture and become sloppy (but that might be just me!).

* Spicy Cashew and Sultana Rice {Meatless Mondays}

We're celebrating Neils 45th birthday tonight, if we can manage to get to mum's in Neil's car.

Typically, both cars have gone up the spout at the same time... mine's in the garage for an MOT that's going to cost an arm and a leg... and then Neil phoned this morning to say that his car kept cutting out on him on the the way to work. 

It never rains but it pours.

Hopefully a huge "curry night" will take the edge off for all of us, and in a few hours we'll be in a curry coma.

There's a bottle of wine, beers and half the makings of dinner at mum's already - and I've cooked the rest today. We're having this lovely Spicy Cashew and Sultana Rice with Chicken Tikka Masala, onion bhajis, vegetable samosas and naan breads. I'm not skilled enough to make the tricky bits (yet - working on it), but the rice and curry are family favourites that I can turn out with my eyes closed. 

Sometimes. 

Today I nearly burnt the curry because I was distracted by something online. 

It's really not a good idea to google Hugh Jackman images when you're supposed to be cooking dinner.

* Lemon and Parsley Couscous

I love couscous. Hugely. If my life depended on it - I couldn't give it up. It's so incredibly easy to cook and it's my comfort food above all others.... however... Neil hates it, so more often than not I'll have whatever he's having out of ease. Lazy, but that's life and I know I'm not the only person that does it.

I never realise quite how much I miss it until I've made a slight effort and am actually eating it - usually with just a knob of butter swirled through it. It's rare that I add anything to it because I genuinely enjoy it just as it is comes. Not exactly life altering.

Adding lemon and parsley to it isn't exactly life altering either, but I've never done it before (don't ask me why, I don't know why!) so was very pleasantly surprised that it worked as well as it did. You know what it's like - the simple things require what you believe is a bit less effort, and it all goes a tad skewiff because you've gotten cocky and lazy and just stuffed a whole lemon, unpeeled and unjuiced into a bowl of raw couscous along with a handful of unchopped parsely - dirt and all... Then stand back in amazement when your somewhat dormant cooking genius gets up off the sofa, packs it bags and grabs a one way ticket to El Salvadore... all without a backwards glance...

... even the simple things require the tiniest bit of effort sometimes. Not always something that I remember or can even be bothered with... and when I can... I usually have one vital missing ingredient - like errrrr.... couscous.

I didn't. I had the couscous. I had everything....

Cue *birthday dance*.

* Chicken Flavoured Rice

Plain boiled white rice is all very well, but occasionally it's nice to add a smidgen of flavour to it. My personal favourite is Saffron Rice, but I've just used up the last of the saffron - so that wasn't an option. It's also exorbitantly expensive to purchase in the big name supermarkets... one strand of saffron in a jar will cost you your first born's first born.

My first born hasn't got a clue that he's been born. Not sure how that'd work out as far as offering up my first grandchild as payment for a strand of saffron would be concerned. They'd probably want a refund. Heck... I'd want a refund.

Just think... if I'd bought my son in a shop I could have taken him back years ago and said "This one's broke can I have another?" As long as I didn't tell the shop owner that I broke him when I got him home, they'd have to give me my money back - wouldn't they?!? I wouldn't want an exchange - I've been lead to believe that girls are even more hard work than boys :/

I'm sure you think I'm being mean... but if I tell you that he doesn't eat my cooking... complains almost constantly that he's "not eating any of that foreign crap" (anything with pasta or rice is foreign... apparently)... then goes to the shops and buys himself one of those plastic burgers that you bung in the microwave for a minute and wolfs it down with a 2 litre bottle of cola... then complains that he's caught the sniffles from a passing bumble bee... and please could I make him something hot and spicy and foreign to help clear his nose...

... well...

... wouldn't you at least want to see if you could find the box he came in?

* Cauliflower Cheese

I LOVE Cauliflower Cheese. Especially one with an extra thick cheese sauce... however... I am aware that for many, this particular food stuff is their Kryptonite.

Well.... they ain't writing this blog. I am. If you want to get back at me for writing up a recipe that you don't like, you can spam me with images of Aubergines.

I HATE Aubergines.

Don't like licorice much either, so if you can find a way to combine the two - I'll do a little dance and donate it to you. Seriously. Stuff will jiggle...

...moving on...

I am ker-nackered. Today I have been swimming. After swimming my mate Trina offered me a HUUUGE muffin with lemon curd and fresh cream. We had earned it (Truly). She had barely picked hers up off the plate and I was already licking my fingers clean. If she hadn't had her hands full (HUUUUGE muffin... HUUUGE) I think she would have applauded me. Hell... I nearly applauded me. Pif paf poof and gone.

Okay, maybe I hadn't earned more than the lemon curd and the cream.

Okay.  

Just the lemon curd.

I really should have stopped at "Aubergines" , shouldn't I.

* Somerset Stew with Cheddar and Chive Mash

I bought a 500ml bottle of cider a few weeks back, intending to use it to make this stew - then put it in the drinks cupboard (yes, we have one of those) and completely forgot about it until I was searching for the sherry. So I finally got round to making it yesterday.

When Neil saw the open bottle sitting in the fridge he had a slight panic attack and asked if I'd used one of his Christmas presents. Apparently he was given a bottle of cider with a glass, and he thought I'd purloined it for his dinner. Quite frankly, if I'd remembered he'd got it, I wouldn't have bought the other bottle - but that's between you, me and the gatepost.

It really was incredibly easy to make, and very tasty - I added a couple of sausages to Neil's plate, he's pretty much like a lot of meat eating men, and doesn't believe that vegetables alone constitute a decent meal. I don't mind vegetarian fare at all, in fact, a lot of the time it's more interesting to cook and to eat.

I did try to become vegetarian when I was a teenager ( looooooooooooooooong time ago), and there really wasn't much on offer. My mum did most of the cooking and she wasn't exactly adventurous - vegetarian sausages came in a packet mix that you added water to, and shaped into sausages. The same with burgers.... As a teenager, I wasn't much interested in making an effort for myself as far as my diet was concerned. Bless her heart, she tried so hard find vegetarian alternatives for me... I finally let her off the hook when I confessed that I'd been stopping at a greasy burger van on the way home from work every night, (for weeks) and stuffing my face with a beef quarter pounder with cheese..

I think she threw a cauliflower at me. SEE???... completely unadventurous vegetable to be lobbing at a teen.

If it had been me, I'd have thrown a Butternut Squash.

* Sweet Potato and Spinach Gratin

It didn't matter what I did with this gratin, it would NOT take a decent photograph, and I'm not photographically skilled enough to make it look awesome. Which it was. Totally. So please don't let it's somewhat Seventies demeanour, put you off.

It was lush.

It was also incredibly easy to wack together whilst I took a lunch break from spring cleaning my lounge. Yes. I said "spring cleaning my lounge". Yes. I have hit my head. Bashed it on the breakfast bar yesterday when I was fishing around underneath it, for Neil's slippers. Stood up before I had cleared the bottom of the thing and 24 hours later I find myself covered from head to toe in dust bunnies, sporting this seasons "Mop and Bucket Look". Tres chic.

The dog spent the entire day crashed out on my bed, for fear of getting roped into helping. That and the fact that at seventy seven human years old, she couldn't take all the whirling dervish that was going on, so I took pity on her and treated her to a trip Upstairs. Upstairs is somewhere that she's not usually allowed access to, unless mummy is staying out for the night - in which case, daddy sneaks her Upstairs at bed time so that they can snuggle... without mummy knowing...

... that is, until she discovers the dog hairs all over the bed (Eeeeewww), and the chew toy wedged under her pillow (Double Eeeeewwww!!!).

Obviously, it's okay when I let her up there. I'm in charge.