Roast chicken, mashed potato, some green nonsense, GRAVY! :eat:
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Roast chicken, mashed potato, some green nonsense, GRAVY! :eat:
Wife's away. I'm thinking I'll make Hong Shau Rou*.Quote:
Originally Posted by Sir C
*Obviously, this won't happen.
Berenjak tomorrow :cloud9:Quote:
Originally Posted by Sir C
I'm going out in STYLE, baby!11111!!!!!!
Lovely - what time do you want me to come round?Quote:
Originally Posted by Sir C
I like the way you're treating moving out of London as though you're about to expire. :hehe:Quote:
Originally Posted by Monty92
I'm very much looking forward to your updates on what it's like living in the sticks surrounded by stolid, Middle-England types.
But you must! Why wouldn't you? Assuming you have the belly in the fridge?Quote:
Originally Posted by Burney
Otherwise, it's kebab town all the way.
Oh those Iranians will love it when you walk in. :hehe:Quote:
Originally Posted by Monty92
There's just no point cooking for oneself, though, is there? It's a lot of effort and the only person one can impress is oneself.Quote:
Originally Posted by Sir C
Perhaps I'll save my pork for when the wife gets home.
I think my chicken gravy is better than KFC's. It always begins with a good bed of mirepoix under the bird as it roasts, moistened by a good splash of wine. Each week the theme of the gravy is determined by the herbs left over from the weekend's meals; we might enjoy the earthiness of a thyme gravy, or the faint whiff of the glamour of travel in a background hint of coriander and ginger, even the spring freshness of mint might appear. Either way, this juice will be full-bodied, rich and thick enogh to stand your spoon up in.Quote:
Originally Posted by Luis Anaconda
I think there's a terrible, fish-out-of-water Radio 4 sitcom to be had from the experiences of a North London Jew among the yeoman types. It could be called 'Goys Will Be Goys'.Quote:
Originally Posted by Sir C
I often eat a whole belly when the glw is away, for she favours not the fat pork. I say 'a whole belly', I mean one of they little joints, 700 grams or so. I suppose that's still quite a lot.Quote:
Originally Posted by Burney
The joy of cooking for oneself is that one acn eat what one will; pork belly with chips, gravy and bread and butter, a couple of eggs on the side, that sort of thing. The sortt of meal up with which the glw simply wouldn't put.
I hope they lynch the ****.Quote:
Originally Posted by Burney
Coriander and ginger? In gravy?!Quote:
Originally Posted by Sir C
That's it. I'm calling the immigration services. You have clearly obtained your British passport under false pretences.
Yes, there is that. Maybe I'll have egg, beans and chips again. With a couple of slices of buttered white.Quote:
Originally Posted by Sir C
No more than the faintest whiff. Eating the gravy is like the vague memory of a journey to exotic climes, all dressed up in stout trencherman fayre.Quote:
Originally Posted by Burney
It's fusion but in a good way.
Exoticism has no place in gravy, sir!Quote:
Originally Posted by Sir C
It must be this new-fangled sense of smell that's recently returnedQuote:
Originally Posted by Burney
Well I wouldn't give you any anyway so bóllocks to you. :vsign: #flounceQuote:
Originally Posted by Burney
You're right, of course. The poor fecker has no idea what he's doing. He's like a man released from prison, exercising his libido with little regard for propriety, decorum or good taste.Quote:
Originally Posted by PSRB
We must pray that, with time, he learns the error of his ways.
It's your poor wife I feel sorry for. God knows what culinary monstrosities you are inflicting upon her as you thrash about rediscovering the concept of flavour. And I'm sure she smiles sweetly and pronounces it delicious, doesn't she, poor girl? She's a saint.Quote:
Originally Posted by Sir C