At Fat Sam's Grand Slam Speakeasy...
Sep. 5th, 2007 09:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chaletianGosh, you lot *are* lucky. Due to non-functioning wireless, you get my stream-of-consciousness whilst preparing a meal...
I was going to post, once again extolling the wonders of wireless, only to find that, once again, I had lost my connection. Helas. I suspect a pattern.
I am in the kitchen, cooking spag bol (yes, I make this practically every other day…), and making garlic-bread-out-of-M&S-ciabatta, listening to Bugsy Malone, and wearing my stripey apron. God’s in his metaphorical heaven and all is well with my world.
Now, the question with which I am faced, as the kettle boils, is do we want actual spag, or linguine (actually, I’m vetoing that right off; I always cook it slightly too much), or fusilli, or fusilli bucati? What to choose? What pasta did Baby Jee have with his bol, that’s what we must ask ourselves.
My bol is all onion. Why have our recent Sainsbury’s onions been so giant? Why, Englebert?
God, I love having a gas hob again. I can’t think how I managed with those damned electric jobbies.
Executive decision: spag it is. Why improve on the perfect?
Have grated small cheese mountain, to satisfy Katie’s endless lust for cheese. Why do my friends have such a cheese fetish? And, obviously, by ‘my friends’, I do mean Katie and Kathye and nobody else. Unless other people have cheese fetishes about which I remain in ignorance. Answers on a postcard, folks…
Once again, have made dinner (well, almost), and am not particularly hungry. Note to self: on coming home, do not lie on bed, faff on internet, and eat fag end of a bag of peanut M&Ms.
Actually, on looking at cheese mountain, is actually more of a cheese hillock. Will go and grate more.
Done. Cheese hillock expanded to mountain proportions.
It is very warm in the kitchen. I cannot reach the windows. My life sucks.
Appear to have lost bay leaf in bol. Am about to launch exploratory expedition.
Fuck! Bread ready! Bol ready! Spag boiling! Not ready! Nothing ready! WHY AM I WRITING STUPID LJ POST. FOCUS, GIRL, FOCUS!
Katie has arrived. All is well. Currently foiled by sink mank. Curses.
Sitting down. All is well.
And breathe.
I was going to post, once again extolling the wonders of wireless, only to find that, once again, I had lost my connection. Helas. I suspect a pattern.
I am in the kitchen, cooking spag bol (yes, I make this practically every other day…), and making garlic-bread-out-of-M&S-ciabatta, listening to Bugsy Malone, and wearing my stripey apron. God’s in his metaphorical heaven and all is well with my world.
Now, the question with which I am faced, as the kettle boils, is do we want actual spag, or linguine (actually, I’m vetoing that right off; I always cook it slightly too much), or fusilli, or fusilli bucati? What to choose? What pasta did Baby Jee have with his bol, that’s what we must ask ourselves.
My bol is all onion. Why have our recent Sainsbury’s onions been so giant? Why, Englebert?
God, I love having a gas hob again. I can’t think how I managed with those damned electric jobbies.
Executive decision: spag it is. Why improve on the perfect?
Have grated small cheese mountain, to satisfy Katie’s endless lust for cheese. Why do my friends have such a cheese fetish? And, obviously, by ‘my friends’, I do mean Katie and Kathye and nobody else. Unless other people have cheese fetishes about which I remain in ignorance. Answers on a postcard, folks…
Once again, have made dinner (well, almost), and am not particularly hungry. Note to self: on coming home, do not lie on bed, faff on internet, and eat fag end of a bag of peanut M&Ms.
Actually, on looking at cheese mountain, is actually more of a cheese hillock. Will go and grate more.
Done. Cheese hillock expanded to mountain proportions.
It is very warm in the kitchen. I cannot reach the windows. My life sucks.
Appear to have lost bay leaf in bol. Am about to launch exploratory expedition.
Fuck! Bread ready! Bol ready! Spag boiling! Not ready! Nothing ready! WHY AM I WRITING STUPID LJ POST. FOCUS, GIRL, FOCUS!
Katie has arrived. All is well. Currently foiled by sink mank. Curses.
Sitting down. All is well.
And breathe.
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no subject
Date: 2007-09-05 08:40 pm (UTC)Mmm cheese.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-05 08:43 pm (UTC)Your streams of conciousness re. spag bol sound remarkably like mine... must investigate next time I cook. *ponders*
no subject
Date: 2007-09-05 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-05 09:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-05 10:31 pm (UTC)Did you give Katie 2 points for
carrotsfinding the bayleaf?no subject
Date: 2007-09-06 06:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-06 12:04 pm (UTC)