Dinner tonight?

[Sir C]

Roast chicken, mashed potato, some green nonsense, GRAVY! :eat:

[Burney]

Roast chicken, mashed potato, some green nonsense, GRAVY! :eat:

Wife's away. I'm thinking I'll make Hong Shau Rou*.









*Obviously, this won't happen.

[Monty92]

Roast chicken, mashed potato, some green nonsense, GRAVY! :eat:

Berenjak tomorrow :cloud9:

I'm going out in STYLE, baby!11111!!!!!!

[Luis Anaconda]

Roast chicken, mashed potato, some green nonsense, GRAVY! :eat:

Lovely - what time do you want me to come round?

[Burney]

Berenjak tomorrow :cloud9:

I'm going out in STYLE, baby!11111!!!!!!

I like the way you're treating moving out of London as though you're about to expire. :hehe:


I'm very much looking forward to your updates on what it's like living in the sticks surrounded by stolid, Middle-England types.

[Sir C]

Wife's away. I'm thinking I'll make Hong Shau Rou*.









*Obviously, this won't happen.

But you must! Why wouldn't you? Assuming you have the belly in the fridge?

Otherwise, it's kebab town all the way.

[Sir C]

Berenjak tomorrow :cloud9:

I'm going out in STYLE, baby!11111!!!!!!

Oh those Iranians will love it when you walk in. :hehe:

[Burney]

But you must! Why wouldn't you? Assuming you have the belly in the fridge?

Otherwise, it's kebab town all the way.

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.

Perhaps I'll save my pork for when the wife gets home.

[Sir C]

Lovely - what time do you want me to come round?

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.

[Burney]

Oh those Iranians will love it when you walk in. :hehe:

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'.

[Sir C]

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.

Perhaps I'll save my pork for when the wife gets home.

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.

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.

[Sir C]

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'.

I hope they lynch the ****.

[Burney]

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.

Coriander and ginger? In gravy?!

That's it. I'm calling the immigration services. You have clearly obtained your British passport under false pretences.

[Burney]

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.

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.

Yes, there is that. Maybe I'll have egg, beans and chips again. With a couple of slices of buttered white.

[Sir C]

Coriander and ginger? In gravy?!

That's it. I'm calling the immigration services. You have clearly obtained your British passport under false pretences.

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.

It's fusion but in a good way.

[Burney]

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.

It's fusion but in a good way.

Exoticism has no place in gravy, sir!

[PSRB]

Coriander and ginger? In gravy?!

That's it. I'm calling the immigration services. You have clearly obtained your British passport under false pretences.

It must be this new-fangled sense of smell that's recently returned

[Sir C]

Exoticism has no place in gravy, sir!

Well I wouldn't give you any anyway so bóllocks to you. :vsign: #flounce

[Burney]

It must be this new-fangled sense of smell that's recently returned

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.

We must pray that, with time, he learns the error of his ways.

[Burney]

Well I wouldn't give you any anyway so bóllocks to you. :vsign: #flounce

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.