Am stuck at home in bed with the bug that is sweeping the nation. It is very boring. The wind is banging my sash window against its flimsy frame and water is running down the panes. There’s a gaggle of yellow-sashed road menders drilling merry hell out of the road outside, which is especially restful.
January to January this has been an appalling year. A year of slithers and mists. Of damp and drips. What happened to springs that make you feel 5 years old and jump in puddles in your red wellies and you clean the house from top to bottom… to the long hot lazy summer when the fruit tastes of sunshine and the wine is very cold and the smoke of bbqs drifts on the breeze… and to the crisp cold autumn when you kick the red and yellow leaves and smell the gunpowder in the air and feel the tingle of winter in your fingertips and see your breath make shapes in the air? I’m not just being romantic – it really has been RUBBISH!!!
Oh god. I do think about things apart from the weather you know, but Timo has been filling my brain with horrible hard physics and it's all leaked out of my ears and made a mess on the floor. What's left in my head is slightly damp cotton wool. So you're going to have to wait a smidgeon longer if you're hoping for something amusing :-)
Oh, before i forget: today's food thrill is slightly retro but guaranteed to make your friends suddenly cancel their plans and come visit you at teatime... if you don't have enough fish fingers i recommend not telling them what you're going to be scoffing until after you're finished.
POSH FISH FINGER SARNIES
bake four fish fingers (good ones please. i'm not taking responsibility for foulness if you use asda's own brand) per person at a preheated 220C, about 9-10 mins a side to make sure they are nice and crunchy on the outside, soft white fish on the inside. don't be surprised if they make some desperate bid to remain welded to the foil or tray btw. this is entirely normal. fish fingers are stubborn bastards. sandwich in a buttered fresh white crusty roll or baguette (or whatever bread makes you go all dreamy) with lots and lots of rocket, a hefty squodge of good ketchup and a liberal grinding of black pepper.
droooooooooooool!
ps you're going to get this everywhere. ketchup is pervasive stuff. wear a bib. or borrow someone else's clothes.
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