No this wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t want speckled scones. But speckled scones is what I got. Oh and by the way, if you hail from the States, these are biscuits.
I received a gift – an excellent book called ‘Perfect’, created by a Guardian writer who does an in depth analysis of a classic creation and then decides what the perfect version is. So I thought I’d give it a go. Perfect scones require lard and butter (not just butter) and also you shouldn’t roll the pastry, but rather flatten it by hand.
So, given I followed the instructions for perfect scones, how come my scones weren’t perfect? I will get to that later.
Queen Vic swore by it. Two sponges, sandwiched together with strawberry jam. Bit of cream too, if you’re that way inclined.
Mind you, if you make this with the help of a glass of Chardonnay, be warned. Go easy on the jam and cream. It might get a little over-exuberant…
I’m not kidding. This recipe is fool proof. You can’t go wrong.
Grey is so….gray. Chocolate is better. Also you can’t dribble grey over your significant other and, well, whatever.
Also, there could well be 50 shades of chocolate. I’ve no idea. Brown is brown, chocolate is chocolate…but of course it isn’t. Chocolate is a whole world of bittersweet fantasmagorical wonderment. Combine it with cream and strawberries and you have a gourmet-gasm of amaze-balls. Sorry, getting carried away.
Lets get down to business, so to speak. It was pancake day yesterday and so we celebrated with Strawberries and Cream Pancakes with Chocolate Sauce.
Sounds fancy? Well it isn’t! It’s Potato Pie by any other name. You could call it Potato en Croute. French is a very useful language. Something that sounds ‘run-of-the-mill’ or ‘middle-of-the-road’ can sound much better in French. But there is nothing boring about this recipe.
In fact Il n’y a rien de banal dans ce qu’on propose. And no I cannot speak French, this is a dodgy internet translation so it probably says ‘My dog is dead’ when it fact should say ‘There is nothing run-of-the-mill about it’. I shall be corrected.
Yes folks, I’ve discovered something new. It’s called the ‘Fatberg’.
What’s a fatberg, I hear you ask (nay, yell) at your screen. ‘Tell me! Tell me now!’ Okay.
A fatberg is like an iceberg. Except it’s not made of very cold water. No. It’s made of fat.
‘No shit, Sherlock’ some of you less than genteel readers might be thinking. ‘And where the hell do you find a fatberg?’
In London’s sewers. Yes, that’s right; sewers. You think I’m joking? Take a look at this:
Pic from County Clean