I am preparing my beach body for this year’s hols. I am not entirely sure what this means, what it will look like, or how long it will take. But it better bloody get on with it because time is running out.
Too many times I go about creating some long-winded, complex creation with the intention of blogging all about it only to find I either a) cannot remember what the ingredients are, b) didn’t put the card in the camera, c) cannot even remember what it was that I created. So for this post I kept it simple – Salmon and Pesto Parcels. It takes about 10 minutes to put together, 20 minutes to cook and about 5 minutes to eat.
…of 2014! And what better way of signing off than with a bacon sandwich and a glass of Bucks Fizz, heavy on the orange juice. After all it’s only 1pm. I’ve got to last until midnight so I can get annoyed with people letting off fireworks.
As it is the season of goodwill to all men (and women obviously) I thought it an opportune time to list all the things that have really annoyed me this year. But before I do I wanted to share (there, that’s one of my pet hates, people who ‘share’. It’s not sharing fool, it’s showing, or telling, or asking, or phoning, or emailing) this year’s festive centrepiece…
I don’t think I know, or even care, what Halloween is about anymore. It’s like something to do with something about some pagan ritual. Or is it something to do with saving our souls from pagan rituals. Or is it about warding off the second coming of the son of St Pumpkin.
Actually isn’t it a nod to the founding fathers staving off the attack of some indigenous peoples who were encroaching on a field of butternut squash? No, fool; Halloween is recognition of Jack Nicholson dealing with Susan Sarandon and Michelle Pfiefer. At the same time. Period.
Whatever, Halloween is a good excuse to do stupid things to vegetables. It isn’t really a good excuse to make a mess with chocolate, but I propose introducing the latter as a new traditional activity.
So this Halloween we proceeded to make Chocolate Mallow Brownies. And also get busy on a couple of pumpkins. At the same time.
Forget American Horror Story, this is where the terror begins…