In the living room this morning I experienced one of those lazy Sunday morning am-I-really-awake-or-am-I-having-some-sort-of-freakish-dream moments over my Krispies when I bore witness to Craig David, of making-love-everyday-but-Sunday fame, creating the base for a Millionaire Shortbread on national television. Not even an obscure freeview channel, but proper, grown-up, Normal Telly.
I suppose for those of us whom presumed that the only reason Mr. David paused for breath and forsook yet another buxom squeeze on the day of the Sabbath was to go to church and repent for aforementioned illicitliaisons (after all, you can go out wearing white, but you will only come home wearing black where he is involved...) were quite surprised when it transpired that the saucy little love-making machine actually gets down and dirty with bakery items on the Christian holy day. Tasty.
So in the spirit of the programme, I too indulged in some kitchen antics today, inspired by the antics of Craig to learn how to make pastry. Mouthwatering, buttery, flaky to the touch pop it on your pie pastry. It was all that rubbing between the thumb and forefinger in a light but bracing manner that persuaded me.
In light of The Affair dad took it upon himself to undertake my mission to puff-dom (being his Straight Child this was particularly exciting) as his own by sitting reading The Sunday Times in his favourite armchair chair and yelling through instructions to a very frustrated, purple faced and flour speckled me in the kitchen. Particularlyhelpful, if you make allowances for the fact that my only distraction from all the kneading and rubbing and flour-sprinkling was then an overwhelming urge to twollop him one with my rolling pin.
The highlight of the cookery session, which lasted all of of twenty minutes (is that all? Can we make something else now? Why is there such a mess?) was replicating the thumb and forefinger rubbing in front of my nipples a la Nigella Lawson on latest cookery series. Dad didn't find that part funny. Prude.
So, maybe on Monday I'll google a new recipe for pastry-filling, and on Tuesday buy the ingredients... and then find some fillings for my pies on Wednesday... and Thursday... and Friday... you get the picture.
Oscar Wilde said that "Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth." I guess blog-dom is my mask, and these are my truths.
Cast of Characters (for all the world's a stage, and the men and women merely my players...)
Adoptive Big Sister- Old boss and older sister I never had Baby Brother- possibly secret MI6 operative. Quite lazy. Child A: Eldest of my child-minding charges. Pretty okay. Child B: Younger of my child-minding charges. Pain in the neck. Crazy Jane- Fellow X-Bike user. Crazy, as suggested by the name. Director of Operations- mums eldest sister and very bossy. Doctor Nasty- she says I am overweight. Cow. Ex-Best-Friend- self explanatory Harry- The dog. Westie. Bit of a pouf. Hermione- My cat, who is just like her mum (a differe colours and a bit too vocal for the majority) Mama- queen of comedy. Mr SexyBack- The Boyfriend's best friend and Peter Kay sound-a-like. Nanna- Mum's mum. New Dad- post consumption of huge amounts of humble pie. Now dances in kitchen to Girls Aloud Nice Auntie- mum's twin sister. Lovely. Old Dad- when he wore a suit and was a bit of a twat Olivia- best friend. Fellow Gemini. Lifeline. Pickle- the rabbit. Ringleader of our pack of animals, but the smallest. Rose- Mama's cat. Bow-legged but beautiful. Named after mama's best friend. Sober Auntie- twin of Verbose Auntie. Sensible. The Boyfriend- read: only boy for me Verbose Auntie- Twin to Sober Auntie. Talks lots. Very Tall Friend- seriously, like nearly seven foot!
I don't like being talked about, but I love a bit of gossip I have an unhealthy obsession with mashed potato I cannot sneeze when I have got my glasses on I want to live where the weather suits my clothes: in the sunshine I do not think I would like to raise my children in the U.K. My first child will be called Clementine, but 'Lucy' when she visits my mum I have travelled the world many times over but still get homesick My doctor says that I am overweight. I am a size twelve. I only wear Chanel nail polish I am the least sociable person I know I dislike rude people- smile! It costs nothing. Every time I go into a church, I cry I say Liberal, but vote Conservative I think everybody is, to a greater or lesser extent, bisexual I have a deep-rooted hatred of businessmen in suits I am a vegetarian I only drink French wine It takes two glasses of wine to get me drunk