On the crumpet theme

T.B conjured this up in a matter of minutes - following Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall's advice in the newspaper. 'Hugely satisfying to make', he said. It certainly was to eat, all the better I think not to have the option of 'crumpet rings' and therefore simply creating one giant one. Not being able to fit this in the toaster for obvious reasons, it had a little extra time to brown in the pan, before being buttered and spread with syrup. Seriously, what more could you want in an afternoon snack.

Feeling Christmassy

Quick vs. slow

Two ten pound dinners: one bought and made in a bit of a rush, the other at a more leisurely pace.

1. Creamy mackerel pasta

Smoked mackerel fillets, mushrooms and a few leeks were the only ingredients we bought. Cream and grainy mustard we happened to have.

Mash up mackerel in a bowl with a few tablespoons of cream and however much mustard you like. You can always add more later. Leave that while you cook up some mushrooms and leeks (together or separately) and put pasta on to boil. We had

spaghetti but something smaller could be good. When everything is ready, stir the fish in to the hot pasta and add more cream to coat if needs be. Finally add vegetables. Tasty.

2. Cecily's baked pork chops

This is actually going to seem as though all we eat are creamy mustardy meals, but these were about a week apart. C picked up some pork and baked for a while with cream, mustard, thyme, possibly a bit of lemon. We ate it with kale, curly kale, and a new discovery: millet. It is shaped like couscous but with the texture of porridge. Also tasty.

The Full English Process

Apologies to T.B for my disappointing review of last week's events. I dedicate this post to you and your deep pan.

Now seems an appropriate time to discuss said disappointed flat-mate's regular lunch creation: the bacon sandwich, as I have been meaning to for some time.

These photos were taken by T on my camera without my knowledge so added extra incentive for me to document this highly important process. The mushrooms: where it all begins.

A good 20 minutes are spent slicing a large bagful of them, to approximately a 4-5 mm width. An impressive pile now stands on the side waiting for oil to be heated in the pan before they can be laid in the pan (I think it's always the same handleless one - pictured). After the mushrooms have had about 3 minutes exuding their waters the bacon comes out.

I should note that this documentation seems to have been set as an unspoken challenge - as it's something I see on maybe a twice-weekly basis, I should be able to fluently recount the details. I have to admit I am beginning to doubt myself over the crucial question of bacon: smoked or unsmoked?

I'm going to have to say smoked and will suffer the consequences if T reads this and I am wrong. Anyway, the fact that I am even feeling anxiety over this choice illustrates how seriously this process is to be taken.

Back to the pan - three or four slices of bacon are laid on top of the mushrooms and left there in order that - I can quote - "the mushrooms can absorb the salty juices". This seems to be the key part of the method, and the bacon never touches the pan until the end. I know for sure it's not streaky as every time I witness the procedure I postulate how much better it would be with the crispier, fattier variety...I am frowned upon. This is not something to quibble.

When this is nearly done, toast is made and buttered, ready for the sandwich assembly on a plate. Sometimes - only sometimes - an egg might be cracked onto the pile at the last minute as a bonus. The contents of the pan are scooped onto bread and eaten with a knife and fork (surely from the amount of mushrooms this could never be a sandwich).

I think after having spent this time being amused over someone's breakfast making process I really should try the creation. Hopefully I will soon and can give a verdict, maybe even a mark out of ten.

Winter fashion inspiration

I know it's my lunch but I'd quite like to wear these colours

A week's review

A home-cooked Japanese supper and some excellent budget meals...miso aubergines definitely my favourite but look how good the soup looks! It tasted as warm and comforting as the picture.

We weren't mean enough to insist upon a £10 budget on C's birthday, so the added indulgence probably provided the highlight of the week. A fish pie (or two) made by T.M and melting flourless brownies made by J felt like good celebratory food, especially as the weather has got colder. We were hopeful that no endangered fish were used during the process.

However, T.G - as of this week a new addition to our cooking rota, competing with some hefty pies and and soups knocked up some Fajitas (spicy chicken, peppers, onion, sour cream). My documentation of this week has really been lousy, due to some long essays and a temporary internet failure.

A disappointing incident with a mince pie

Engrossed in piano playing too long = a charred pie and sad face