Tuesday, 10 July 2007


Now I know there are a few of you out there that read my blog, and I'm really delighted that that's the case, so even though no-one's actually responded to anything I posted today, I'm going to tell you about dinner. (Listen, I'm addicted, OK? I spend far too long at work reading blogs, then I come home and spend all evening doing the same. Well I am tonight, what with Jenny being in Canada. Normally it's verboten.)

So at lunchtime, though I'd not planned what to cook, I decided to buy a nice piece of tuna, but after waiting for FIVE MINUTES at the wet fish counter being ignored by TWO members of staff, I loudly pronounced "F*CK IT!" and stormed off. Of course, that meant I had to get something else, and in my pique I grabbed a couple of free range chicken breasts. It's a sad fact that I find it awfully easy to just LOATHE Tesco. The centre of our town is largely shop-free as a result of the arrival..er..10 years ago of an out-of-town Tesco. OK, no proof, but since the big T arrived, shops have been closing faster than the congregation's eyes when the sermon starts.

The other objective of the trip to Tesco was to see if they'd got any oxtail, since my favourite butcher had none, and to my astonishment, Tesco came good with this one. OK, one all. The oxtail is for Sunday when I come home from my mum's, so the plan was to cook it tonight and freeze it.

Looking at the contents of the fridge this evening, I decided to do Delia's Chicken Basque from her Summer Cooking book. It's a favourite of ours, and although it wasn't in any way exploratory (not quite the right word), I was still in a rage at Tesco, so didn't have enough spare brain cells to dedicate to finding something interesting we'd not already done.

Now Delia's recipes are generally 'follow the instructions; serve; receive praise' and I was disappointed when I took the first mouthful of Chicken Basque. It was rather dry, which I really wasn't expecting. The rice was properly cooked, there had been plenty of liquid when I put it in the oven, which instruction had I not followed?

Answer: I'd used chicken breasts, not legs. That's the only difference, and that was only brought about by my fury at the arseholes in Tesco. I think the legs must be simply thicker than the breasts, so cook more slowly, added to which they have the bones in, which must have some effect. Anyway, I won't do that again.

So now, having finished my second glass of Costière de Nîmes, I guess I'd better finish off the oxtail. Another Delia - Oxtail with haricot beans. I can't find the recipe on line, but there's a similar one half way down this page.

I'd better not post anything more tonight, since I really can't cook without a glass by my side, and the effects remind me most of Keith Floyd.

Sigh. Yes, I've prostituted myself. I've eviscerated a bad word in the hope Google ads will pay me some silver.


ziggi said...

cooking eh?
what is it exactly?!

Rob Clack said...

Well these days it's often something we get someone else to do for us. Frinstance last night I was out with a couple of good friends enjoying Malasian cuisine, and I fully expect to be out again tonight, though I haven't actually broached

Interrupt interrupt interrupt

Just had to answer the front door, which was Lorna, neighbour and drinking buddy, come to beg some fresh herbs. I was able to supply basil, chives and tarragon, though she spurned my flat-leaved parseley, mint and coriander.

Anyhow, that answered the 'restaurant' question, as Lorna is cooking. That word again. It was she and her husband, Richard, that I had been planning to lead astray.

And then the yummy lady said the words I longed to hear "Do you want to eat with us tonight?" Oh yes please! It might be veggie food, but I know it will be excellent, and I'll be well fed-up and agreeably drunk (that's a Gerard Hoffnung quote) by the end of the evening!