Baked-Beans-On-Two-Toast (which latter sounds much posher in French - Haricots à la sauce tomate, sur deux tranches de pain grille, I think!).
You could call it Croque-Bateau.
In his biography "On my way to the club" Ludovic Kennedy told of his experiences on HMS Tartar during WW2. The ship's cook has a way of describing ordinary dishes in fancy French terms, so much so that the officers got fed up with him and told him to go back to English - but "tinned anchovies on toast" didn't taste anything as nice! (I don't have the book to hand so can't tell you the French name he gave it).
I, alas, have run out of Marmite. Assuming they manage to make it across the border (but that’s a subject for the Brexit anxiety thread) my parents have promised to replenish the supply when they come. In the meantime, I am sadly Marmiteless.
When I was a child, I loved Marmite (and still do). One year we were on holiday in Switzerland when the jar we'd brought from home got used up. My parents hunted high and low and eventually managed to buy a tin of it, doubtless at vast expense. To my discredit, I flatly refused to eat it, even though it was the Genuine Article.
Hey, a bike with a gong, now that would be formidably spectacular!
I want one! I’ve discovered that I can just about tie my wicker basket onto the back carrier, using bungees. So I think I’m set for my first outing on Trigger/Silver/Duke.
Today is another that has slipped out of shape - after I’d half pruned my apple tree I discovered that a friend was intending making her own birthday cake which is Not On. So instead of pruning the other half of the tree I made a choc birthday cake (to be decorated by her grandson and husband) plus some choc digestives for a meeting I’m chairing this evening. Hopefully I’ll be able to finish the pruning tomorrow.
I, alas, have run out of Marmite. Assuming they manage to make it across the border (but that’s a subject for the Brexit anxiety thread) my parents have promised to replenish the supply when they come. In the meantime, I am sadly Marmiteless.
Confession: I buy Marmite online via Amazon, reducing an emergency to a minor nuisance.
Well, Storm Gareth hit our valley this morning. I went out, and stopped at the ATM to get some cash. By the time I'd got my cash, my hands were sooo cold, I was really glad to put my gloves back on. Some of the gusts of wind nearly blew my scooter backwards. I was very glad to get home and get warm.
We contemplated les haricots à la sauce tomate, sur le pain grille for lunch today, but sadly found we were sans haricots, so it was oeufs on toast instead.
We wanted something light, as D. is planning to do toad-in-the-hole for supper. It would have been for lunch, but we were expecting a visit from a plumber, and didn't want to be in mid-lunch when he arrived. He's now been and gone, and while the sink leak isn't yet mended (he had to check about the availability of parts for the tap), the dishwasher appears to now be functional - hallelujah!*
We are now enjoying a cup of tea and some CAKE, so do help yourselves.
It's 4° and sunny, and the snow is still slowly dispersing.
* I know we're not supposed to say "hallelujah" during Lent, but the return of a functional dishwasher after more than six months counts as a feast-day as far as I'm concerned!
Having fasted involuntarily all day (a passing Tummy Bug, I think, but I tend to get them quite badly, IYSWIM), some sustenance is called for.
Hmm. The Episcopal-Ark galley cupboards need replenishing - a trip to the shop is planned for tomorrow - so it's a toss-up between Tomato SOUP (with Marmite added!) or Baked-Beans-On-Two-Toast (which latter sounds much posher in French - Haricots à la sauce tomate, sur deux tranches de pain grille, I think!).
Decisions, decisions.....
I wouldn't have baked beans. Not on an upset stomach.
* I know we're not supposed to say "hallelujah" during Lent, but the return of a functional dishwasher after more than six months counts as a feast-day as far as I'm concerned!
We've never had a functional dishwasher, nor a non-functional one. However my sister would not be without hers.
You'd have to prise mine from my cold, dead hands.
Although D. says he doesn't mind washing up, he'll go and sit down after lunch (usually falling asleep within minutes), leaving the dishes wherever they are, which drives me up the pole because I want to get them out of the way. At least with a dishwasher, they can be put out of sight; for some reason I don't see loading the dishwasher as a chore, and washing up the stuff that isn't dishwasher-proof (pots with wooden handles) doesn't seem like such a chore when it's all you have to do.
You'd have to prise mine from my cold, dead hands.
Although D. says he doesn't mind washing up, he'll go and sit down after lunch (usually falling asleep within minutes), leaving the dishes wherever they are, which drives me up the pole because I want to get them out of the way. At least with a dishwasher, they can be put out of sight; for some reason I don't see loading the dishwasher as a chore, and washing up the stuff that isn't dishwasher-proof (pots with wooden handles) doesn't seem like such a chore when it's all you have to do.
This. You and I were clearly separated at birth - except that Mr Nen seldom says anything at all about the alien concept of washing up.
Our dishwasher has also given up the ghost, so we’re washing up until we get around to doing something about it. It’s on the list.
I’ve had a horrible stiff neck for a few days and dreadful headaches when I lie down, so I’m not sleeping (no rash or fever, though), which has really dragged me down. Anti inflammatories have done nothing except upset my stomach. Hot water bottles and those wheat bags you put in the microwave are lovely, though. I have an appointment to see the quack tomorrow, so see what they say.
MMM, feeling a bit sorry for herself but also feeling it’s a bit of a pathetic overreaction to a stiff neck!
My sympathies, MMM.
Thursday is my day off so I’m off to yoga this morning, then coffee with the ladies. I quite fancy making some cake and am eyeing up those blondies.
I will be sitting and crocheting later, making a shawl for a friend’s birthday. It is shaped like a dove’s wing and it’s in variegated greys.
I've finished my working week and Thursday is the day I have a Zumba class, do grocery shopping and see a friend. Unfortunately work is grim at present and I've had a bad night being unable to switch off about it.
You'd have to prise mine from my cold, dead hands.
Although D. says he doesn't mind washing up, he'll go and sit down after lunch (usually falling asleep within minutes), leaving the dishes wherever they are, which drives me up the pole because I want to get them out of the way. At least with a dishwasher, they can be put out of sight; for some reason I don't see loading the dishwasher as a chore, and washing up the stuff that isn't dishwasher-proof (pots with wooden handles) doesn't seem like such a chore when it's all you have to do.
This. You and I were clearly separated at birth - except that Mr Nen seldom says anything at all about the alien concept of washing up.
Mr. S, on the other hand, would rather take up pole-dancing professionally than leave an unwashed teaspoon visible in the kitchen. If I am running the dishwasher on its cleaning cycle, for instance, he will wash up by hand rather than leave tidily-stacked dishes on the worktop till it finishes. This, to me, is keeping a dog and biting the postman yourself.
My favourite washing-up story, though, dates from the long-lost far-off days of Sunday afternoon tea, no doubt featuring bread and butter and a biscuit Afterwards. Daddy washed up the tea things and left them on the side, so Mum assumed that they hadn't been touched and washed them all over again
Mrs. S, who very rarely has to wash up anything *hallelujah*
I’m the washer up in our house, Mr Boogs is the cook. I enjoy it. My Dad used to say he enjoyed washing up but I didn’t believe it. I do now, it’s nice to stand looking at the garden while I do it.
Storm Gareth is raging outside and the forecast is 100% for rain - I’ll be postponing dog walks to this afternoon!
Having fasted involuntarily all day (a passing Tummy Bug, I think, but I tend to get them quite badly, IYSWIM), some sustenance is called for.
Hmm. The Episcopal-Ark galley cupboards need replenishing - a trip to the shop is planned for tomorrow - so it's a toss-up between Tomato SOUP (with Marmite added!) or Baked-Beans-On-Two-Toast (which latter sounds much posher in French - Haricots à la sauce tomate, sur deux tranches de pain grille, I think!).
Decisions, decisions.....
I wouldn't have baked beans. Not on an upset stomach.
Woken by strong winds at 3am - our bedroom is right below the roof, so it sounds awful. Not nice. Garden saturated this morning, with more rain to come. Yuck.
Last night I discovered a little bit of magic for insomnia of the mild and passing kind. I woke up from a bizarre minor nightmare and then couldn’t get back to sleep. And then instead of being cross and anxious about it as I usually am, I had a thought. I am in my bed. It’s warm and cosy and comfy. I like it here. This is a nice place to be, even if I’m not asleep.
I finally got back to sleep and woke up feeling much better than I usually do on these occasions.
Also the other half of his own volition yesterday made himself a lunch of eggs, (English) bacon and baked beans. I was so proud.
This morning I walked with a birthday-girl friend to our new, local nature reserve where we didn’t see much but heard plenty of birds. Then I came home and continued to plough through admin in an attempt to have just one screen of emails. It was extended by work coming out of an incredibly lively committee meeting yesterday evening. But now I’ve done all that I meant to do so I am munching home made digestive biscuits before going to finish pruning my apple tree and plant onion sets.
You'd have to prise mine from my cold, dead hands.
Although D. says he doesn't mind washing up, he'll go and sit down after lunch (usually falling asleep within minutes), leaving the dishes wherever they are, which drives me up the pole because I want to get them out of the way. At least with a dishwasher, they can be put out of sight; for some reason I don't see loading the dishwasher as a chore, and washing up the stuff that isn't dishwasher-proof (pots with wooden handles) doesn't seem like such a chore when it's all you have to do.
Sounds chor-al, even like a song! (Or so he punned.)
Last night I discovered a little bit of magic for insomnia of the mild and passing kind. I woke up from a bizarre minor nightmare and then couldn’t get back to sleep. And then instead of being cross and anxious about it as I usually am, I had a thought. I am in my bed. It’s warm and cosy and comfy. I like it here. This is a nice place to be, even if I’m not asleep.
I finally got back to sleep and woke up feeling much better than I usually do on these occasions.
Also the other half of his own volition yesterday made himself a lunch of eggs, (English) bacon and baked beans. I was so proud.
It's another nice sunny day, and at 6°, I'm contemplating a much lighter coat. I'll still need boots, as the snow isn't really going anywhere, but we're heading the right way!
Hope you're all safe from the forces of Storm Gareth.
My father insisted on doing the non-dishwasher washing up in his later years. He had a major hang-up about the water bill, and he was positive that my mother (or my sister and/or I when home) were using too much water.
I agree. So why does my husband insist on using certain odd items which should not go in the dishwasher and therefore need handwashing, when it is not necessary? I think he hates getting his hands wet as he almost never does the bit of handwashing needed.
its been much warmer today. spent the morning on the beach and explored the rock pools. Tomorrow going to visit ex Zim friends who live about an hour away further up the coast.
If any of you live near a Morrison’s it’s worth investigating their moules et frites ready meal. Very acceptable (with a nice Romanian white) at £2.50 a head.
Moreover, very reminiscent of the same meal at a well-kent chain of French style restaurants. I’m not saying catering pack, but...
Hmm. I might seek out our local Morrison's tomorrow - but it's HUGE, and quite an effort for me to hobble around in.....still, it is Lent, and some form of Penitential Exercise is called for.
But some items you'll still have to do by hand, I gather? Pans? Fragile items? So it does most, but not all?
We have a policy at our house known as "Darwin's Dishwasher", which is that if any dish, utensil, or pan can't survive the normal wash cycle, it's obviously not fit for its environment and deserves to go extinct.
The single exception to the policy is my cast-iron skillet... but everything else has to take its chances in the rough and tumble of natural selection.
We put everything through the dishwasher too, pans and all.
I have a work appraisal this afternoon but that shouldn’t be anything to worry about. Other than that I have marking and chasing up of errant students who have not submitted said marking.
I don’t know what I want for tea - some suggestions? We eat most things and I like cooking. (and don’t suggest that moules et frites, no Morrison’s in walking distance).
Tonight will be duck legs and red cabbage. Advantage there is both can go in a slow to moderate oven. Add a (microwaved) baked potato and you’re done.
Tomorrow may see cauliflower steaks (modish I know, but roasted, quite tasty).
My go to, in fact, is Roast Whatever. Get baking tray, toss in whatever combo of protein and veg you have to hand, anoint liberally with oil and aromatics. Come back in an hour.
Home group social evening. No bible study, no mention of Brexit either (by order) but excellent soup, rolls and cheese plus (in the absence of a "main course") Mrs Sioni produced an apple crumble with the trifecta of cream, custard and ice cream accompaniment.
Storm Gareth continues and it is rubbish collection this morning. Our bin had been blown over, but everything had been bagged up, unlike a couple of others which looked like the aftermath of a landfill bomb.
Well, I took the Episcopal Chariot to our local Morrison's, hobbled into the shop, and found (to my delight) that the Fresh Fish counter is just inside the door.
I then found (to my chagrin) that moules et frites are temporarily out of stock.....
Never mind - sardines and baked spud will do for now!
Comments
In his biography "On my way to the club" Ludovic Kennedy told of his experiences on HMS Tartar during WW2. The ship's cook has a way of describing ordinary dishes in fancy French terms, so much so that the officers got fed up with him and told him to go back to English - but "tinned anchovies on toast" didn't taste anything as nice! (I don't have the book to hand so can't tell you the French name he gave it).
BTW, re anchovies:
'anchois en conserve sur du pain grille'
but I do like LVER's word 'tartine'....
Today is another that has slipped out of shape - after I’d half pruned my apple tree I discovered that a friend was intending making her own birthday cake which is Not On. So instead of pruning the other half of the tree I made a choc birthday cake (to be decorated by her grandson and husband) plus some choc digestives for a meeting I’m chairing this evening. Hopefully I’ll be able to finish the pruning tomorrow.
Confession: I buy Marmite online via Amazon, reducing an emergency to a minor nuisance.
We wanted something light, as D. is planning to do toad-in-the-hole for supper. It would have been for lunch, but we were expecting a visit from a plumber, and didn't want to be in mid-lunch when he arrived. He's now been and gone, and while the sink leak isn't yet mended (he had to check about the availability of parts for the tap), the dishwasher appears to now be functional - hallelujah!*
We are now enjoying a cup of tea and some CAKE, so do help yourselves.
It's 4° and sunny, and the snow is still slowly dispersing.
* I know we're not supposed to say "hallelujah" during Lent, but the return of a functional dishwasher after more than six months counts as a feast-day as far as I'm concerned!
I wouldn't have baked beans. Not on an upset stomach.
Mrs.S, gleeful
Although D. says he doesn't mind washing up, he'll go and sit down after lunch (usually falling asleep within minutes), leaving the dishes wherever they are, which drives me up the pole because I want to get them out of the way. At least with a dishwasher, they can be put out of sight; for some reason I don't see loading the dishwasher as a chore, and washing up the stuff that isn't dishwasher-proof (pots with wooden handles) doesn't seem like such a chore when it's all you have to do.
This. You and I were clearly separated at birth - except that Mr Nen seldom says anything at all about the alien concept of washing up.
I’ve had a horrible stiff neck for a few days and dreadful headaches when I lie down, so I’m not sleeping (no rash or fever, though), which has really dragged me down. Anti inflammatories have done nothing except upset my stomach. Hot water bottles and those wheat bags you put in the microwave are lovely, though. I have an appointment to see the quack tomorrow, so see what they say.
MMM, feeling a bit sorry for herself but also feeling it’s a bit of a pathetic overreaction to a stiff neck!
But the episode left such an impression that ever since I start the day with stretches for the neck and shoulders.
Thursday is my day off so I’m off to yoga this morning, then coffee with the ladies. I quite fancy making some cake and am eyeing up those blondies.
I will be sitting and crocheting later, making a shawl for a friend’s birthday. It is shaped like a dove’s wing and it’s in variegated greys.
I've finished my working week and Thursday is the day I have a Zumba class, do grocery shopping and see a friend. Unfortunately work is grim at present and I've had a bad night being unable to switch off about it.
Mr. S, on the other hand, would rather take up pole-dancing professionally than leave an unwashed teaspoon visible in the kitchen. If I am running the dishwasher on its cleaning cycle, for instance, he will wash up by hand rather than leave tidily-stacked dishes on the worktop till it finishes. This, to me, is keeping a dog and biting the postman yourself.
My favourite washing-up story, though, dates from the long-lost far-off days of Sunday afternoon tea, no doubt featuring bread and butter and a biscuit Afterwards. Daddy washed up the tea things and left them on the side, so Mum assumed that they hadn't been touched and washed them all over again
Mrs. S, who very rarely has to wash up anything *hallelujah*
Storm Gareth is raging outside and the forecast is 100% for rain - I’ll be postponing dog walks to this afternoon!
(Explain that to a lively puppy!)
🤣
That thought occurred to me, too, so I had SOUP.
I finally got back to sleep and woke up feeling much better than I usually do on these occasions.
Also the other half of his own volition yesterday made himself a lunch of eggs, (English) bacon and baked beans. I was so proud.
Hope you're all safe from the forces of Storm Gareth.
I've heard that expressed as, "Why keep a dog and bark yourself?" I like your version better.
Nen - currently trying without success to imagine her own father washing up.
Moreover, very reminiscent of the same meal at a well-kent chain of French style restaurants. I’m not saying catering pack, but...
Storm Gareth was waning by 11am, so I was able to go on a walk with friends and a very welcome cup of coffee afterwards. A good day.
Thanks for that! Fish on Friday it shall be.
We have a policy at our house known as "Darwin's Dishwasher", which is that if any dish, utensil, or pan can't survive the normal wash cycle, it's obviously not fit for its environment and deserves to go extinct.
The single exception to the policy is my cast-iron skillet... but everything else has to take its chances in the rough and tumble of natural selection.
I have a work appraisal this afternoon but that shouldn’t be anything to worry about. Other than that I have marking and chasing up of errant students who have not submitted said marking.
I don’t know what I want for tea - some suggestions? We eat most things and I like cooking. (and don’t suggest that moules et frites, no Morrison’s in walking distance).
Tomorrow may see cauliflower steaks (modish I know, but roasted, quite tasty).
My go to, in fact, is Roast Whatever. Get baking tray, toss in whatever combo of protein and veg you have to hand, anoint liberally with oil and aromatics. Come back in an hour.
My pup is a bit crazy outside on windy days!
🐶
Storm Gareth continues and it is rubbish collection this morning. Our bin had been blown over, but everything had been bagged up, unlike a couple of others which looked like the aftermath of a landfill bomb.
I then found (to my chagrin) that moules et frites are temporarily out of stock.....
Never mind - sardines and baked spud will do for now!