As usual, Sunday has seen the death of many good intentions. I was going to make vegetable soup for lunch, but we got up late and Julia made brunch, so we didn’t need lunch. We had crumpets instead of lunch, plus a slice of stollen. It was very nice, though in nutritional terms it may not quite have been what the doctor ordered.
She is out for a Christmas dinner with friends from a previous job while I cook myself a lonely meal and cook the soup ready for tomorrow night, when we will eat it with a sandwich and croutons. Oh yes, we are going to be sophisticated. Even more so when I reveal the croutons will be made from a very stale piece of sourdough. I really sound like a foodie rather than a man who can’t manage his pantry properly, don’t I? In an ideal world I wouldn’t have a load of wrinkly root veg and a quarter loaf of inedible bread.
The soup is very like the vegetable stew we had last week, though the ingredients are slightly more wrinkled and I’ve used one stock cube instead of two. We had dumplings with the stew, using freshly ground garlic seasoning. It was tasty, filling and virtuous, though I did get a lecture on my immaturity when I sniggered whilst complimenting her dumplings. It seems it is time I grew up.
That’s one of the nice things about being married to Julia. Despite all the evidence, she still thinks I’m capable of improvement. It’s heart-warming, but improbable. I’m 61, I’m set in my ways and this, I’m afraid, is as good as it’s going to get.
My alarm just went. My lonely meal is ready. It’s potato wedges, cheese and onion pasty and mushy peas – comfort food. I’m going to watch the Strictly Come Dancing results, shout at the judges then make tomorrow’s sandwiches.
This is not the life I envisaged when I was a young man. There were more yachts, steaks and butlers in my vision of my future. Fortunately I’m very fond of mushy peas.
I’m afraid I don’t care for mushy peas and for that I am a disappointment to my husband; though he doesn’t have to share them which must be good.
I do enjoy reading your posts as there are frequent little gems that sparkle and give me a giggle.
Today’s highlights were your inability to manage your pantry and that you got a reprimand for admiring Julia’s dumplings 😀
You are very kind, even though you do lack a basic appreciation of a classic of Northern English cuisine. 🙂
I blame my parents.
I blame my parents for many things…
😀
Mushy peas are a mystery to me, too, but all cultures have their culinary quirks. The soup sounds like just thing for a December meal.
The soup should be good. But not as good as mushy peas… 🙂
We could do with a realistic cookery programme. How about it?
I will if Jackie will – my repertoire is a little limited. 🙂
Ah. Stumped
Mushy peas are good. I used to get them at Murphy’s Irish Pub in Sonoma when we were down there.
I never dreamed I’d ever read a sentence containing the words “mushy peas” and “Sonoma”. 🙂
I have yet to understand the mushy peas thing you guys do. I know it’s a thing, but I can’t figure out why or when they might be eaten. Especially why.
Eaten with chips or on their own as a hot snack. Seasoned with mint sauce. Also known as “Yorkshire Caviare”.
I just might have to try it one day.
It’s much better than you might think from the name or description. 🙂
You are slipping up if you let sourdough bread get stale. Still, croutons are a good way to go. I hope that you enjoyed the brief glimpse of a really classy dancer on the results show.
Who was that? One of the media side of the family? Or did you have tickets?
Carlos Acosta who made a brief appearance in the opening group dance of the Strictly results show and made it clear what elegance in dance is really like.
I missed it but just caught up on You Tube. Very good, though I mainly watch it for Craig Revell Horwood rather than the dancing. 🙂