Aubergine Pasta Pie

I often find myself banging my head against a brick wall. Not for any specific reason, I just enjoy the searing pain that racks through my brain.

No, not really, but it can be a bit painful trying to come up with the next culinary creation. What’s the food blogger’s equivalent of writer’s block? Constipation? Maybe.

So when I happened upon Aubergine Pasta Pie, I knew it had to be attempted (It’s called ‘Pasta ‘ncasciata’, apparently, but that isn’t important right now).

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Corned Beef Pie

Earlier this year we attended my wife’s sister’s wedding reception. Now this was no ordinary event; themed as a tea party it was a nostalgic affair, including cream teas (I will do one of those one day) and decor that whisked us back to a bygone era when England punched way above its weight, and, as they say, ruled the waves.

The fussy eater came with us (the older child was somewhere else; teenagers. Nuff said). As we sipped tea from china cups, and nibbled scones with strawberry jam and cucumber sandwiches, out came several enormous pies.

Now my laser-like food sensors immediately indicated that these pies might be an interesting proposition. So I was at the table they were being placed on before they had arrived.

Corned Beef Pies. Big ones. A took a large slice for me and one for the fussy eater. He liked it that much we conspired to recreate this creation at home.

Now in the UK corned beef is not the same as corned beef as it is in the States. Over there it appears to be more like salted beef. I mean it looks like beef. Over here it comes in tins (from Argentina usually) and has the consistency of lumpy pate.

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Not that it matters. This is a) Easy and b) Delicious. And that, oh wonderful readers, is all that matters. Everything else is flim-flammery.

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Salmon Wellington, or Maybe it’s en Croute

When does Salmon en Croute become a Wellington. Or vice versa. Does anyone understand what I mean. Or care?

Whatever.

In the fridge I found some random ingredients and with the devil-may-care attitude of someone who has just got the kids to go to bed and 1 (one) nice big glass of wine inside me I thought ‘Sod recipes, lets do this one on the fly’. So off we went:

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Norfolk Plough Pudding

And the continuing adventures of British Regional Cuisine rolls on. We’ve tried Scouse from the Liverpool region. We’ve had a go at Cornish Pasties from…Cornwall. And we’ve done a load of other dishes but I can’t remember what or where they come from.
Today we’ll go for a dish from the flatlands. That’s the bit of England that CNN thought London was situated in. Norfolk is full of fields and farming and so on. And it’s where this week’s creation originates from. Personally I have some doubts. I mean basically Norfolk Plough Pudding is Steak and Kidney Pudding with pork instead of beef.

But who cares, it gives me an excuse to cook something utterly delicious and totally bad.

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Pork Pie – I Bet Usain Bolt Will Not Be Eating This Before The 100m Final

The Olympics are a couple of weeks away. We are a fairly realistic bunch on this funny little archipelago in the North Eastern Atlantic. We are doing our best but are not trying to compete with the awesome power of the Chinese opening ceremony of 2008 or the perfect weather in Australia in 2000.

But we are obsessing about our Games. And our obsession is all about what happens afterwards. What’s the legacy? What does that even mean? Well on TV at the moment is a programme called Twenty Twelve which essentially rips two shades out of the ‘Tristrams’ (young, well educated, over paid executives) who talk corporate bullshit bingo all day and are currently putting the Games together.

In this clip the PR woman (brilliant acting) describes ‘legacy’ and social media in a way I have heard many times before, in real life:

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